


to greater things beyond the unknown

by RK96000



Series: our household of lies [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Hinata Shouyou-centric, M/M, Seijou!Hinata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 67,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RK96000/pseuds/RK96000
Summary: Shouyou's first day of high school is far more terrifying than it has any right to be.He thinks of being able to actually play on a real, powerhouse team for volleyball, rather than one cobbled together from friends and half baked promises of meat buns and helping them practice. Thinks of playing more than one match in all three years of his middle school career- one match that had ended in half an hour and been lost in straight sets.The thought of being a regular on an actual team is incredible, leaves him breathless and giddy, even as he sits at his polished desk, surrounded by unfamiliar faces who all seem to be familiar, but only with each other.It doesn’t matter, though.Friends are nice but volleyball is better.He’ll make it on Aoba Johsai's team, he has to- and if he doesn’t, well.He’ll prove his worth a thousand times over if he has to.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Series: our household of lies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022320
Comments: 317
Kudos: 752





	1. Love at First Spike

Shouyou's first day of high school is far more terrifying than it has any right to be. 

He thinks of being able to actually play on a real, _powerhouse_ team for volleyball, rather than one cobbled together from friends and half baked promises of meat buns and helping them practice. Thinks of playing more than one match in all three years of his middle school career- one match that had ended in half an hour and been lost in straight sets. 

The thought of being a regular on an actual team is incredible, leaves him breathless and giddy, even as he sits at his polished desk, surrounded by unfamiliar faces who all seem to be familiar, but only with each other. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

Friends are nice but volleyball is better.

He’ll make it on Aoba Johsai's team, he has to- and if he doesn’t, well.

He’ll prove his worth a thousand times over if he has to.

And with that thought in his mind and the thrum of volleyball in his veins, it’s all Shouyou can do to daydream about hitting the perfect spike and doodle dozens of volleyballs into the corners of his notebooks (and pretend they don’t overlap with his notes to the point of unreadability).

Until finally, the day ends.

It’s only after Shouyou stands up, backpack in hand, that he realizes he doesn’t actually have anywhere to go.

For the first time in three years, he isn’t rushing to the girls’ volleyball practice or pleading with his friends to practice with him. 

But now-

Now, there is no one.

Slowly, but surely, his classmates leave the room in a steady trickle, everyone smiling and laughing and making conversation with each other with an envious amount of familiarity, and it isn’t even the first time Shouyou has felt more than a little lost and alone today from going to a school where everyone else basically went to the same middle school. They had inside jokes and established friend circles and he‘s nothing but an outsider. 

_Volleyball_ , Shouyou thinks viciously instead, as if it’s the answer to all of his problems.

He just needs a team. 

And maybe some friends.

At last, it’s down to him and just two others at the back of the classroom- the one with hair styled like a turnip smiles at him, a little too stretched to be entirely genuine while his friend, lurking next to him doesn’t even bother with the pretense of a smile.

“Hinata, right?” Turnip Hair asks, rather than introduce himself. “I saw you draw volleyballs in your notebook.”

Despite the flush warming up his cheeks, Shouyou still can’t hold back his grin, “Yeah! Volleyball is the best! It’s the best feeling ever when you spike a ball and it goes BAM as it lands!”

The friend drags his previously uninterested gaze from the ground to Shouyou, as if reassessing him in a new light. “You’re pretty short for a spiker.”

Oh.

And just like that, it’s like the air has been knocked out of Shouyou all over again, and he’s on his knees, the scent of air salonpas, once smooth and sweet and everything good, clinging to his uniform and reeking of failure.

“Kunimi-” Turnip Hair starts.

Turnip Hair’s friend, Kunimi, shrugs. “Just stating the obvious, Kindaichi.”

Turnip Hair, who Shouyou carefully renames as Kindaichi in his mind, falters.

Shouyou takes one deep breath then another and pushes back the stirrings of frustration and pain- Kunimi’s tone wasn’t one of malice, anyways- and smiles as if to mask it instead. “I’m short, sure,” he waves off.

The determination doesn’t just spread, calm and steady.

It _shoots_ through his veins like a bolt of lightning and steals his breath away.

“But I can fly.”

Both Kunimi and Kindaichi fall silent at that, just staring and staring, as if in disbelief- that’s fine. No one ever believed him until they saw.

After shoving his volleyball shoes on as quickly as he could, Shouyou strides out of the classroom with as much purpose as he can, his two classmates following behind, even if a bit confused, but then remembers he has absolutely no idea where Aoba Johsai’s gymnasium is.

Blinking, he glances back with a sheepish smile. 

“I’ll show you, I swear! But uh, do you know where the gym is?”

Kindaichi snorts and Kunimi’s lips twitch upwards but they lead the way to the gym without a word, Shouyou managing to fight down the slight flush from his dumbassery by the time they finally reach their destined destination.

“What if there’s volleyball practice?” Kindaichi asks right before the three first years can enter.

 _First year-_ Shouyou is a _first year_ in _high school_. 

This might be the second coolest day of his life ever.

(First being the day he saw the Tiny Giant, saw him _fly_.)

“On the first day?” Kunimi pushes the door open, rather than wait for another objection. “Plus, it hasn’t even been five minutes since the last bell rang.”

Kindaichi contemplates that for a moment before following Kunimi inside. “As long as we don’t interrupt our senpai having practice,” he concedes, smile slightly nervous at the edges.

The gymnasium is, as Kunimi predicted, empty, but there are volleyball carts to the side and a net already hung up.

The smell of air salonpas, cool and sharp, regardless of how faint it was, the slight squeak of the floor beneath his volleyball shoes, the overarching ceiling-

“Hinata!” 

Shouyou snaps back to attention, Kunimi already holding a volleyball as if about to set to him, Kindaichi standing as a harsh silhouette against the open hallway.

Kunimi rolls the volleyball in his hand before shrugging, and then-

He sets.

Kunimi grimaces, calls out an apology, says he set it too high, but it doesn’t matter.

And what else could Shouyou do, even as the silhouette at the hallway went from one to three in the corner of his vision?

Shouyou does what he always does, eyes glued onto the volleyball.

He jumps, the entire court stretching out in front of him-

And he _flies._

Then, just like that, the moment is over.

Shouyou returns back to land the second the volleyball makes a satisfying _bam_ against the floor.

“Wow.”

Shouyou blinks.

One of the two newcomers who he had spotted before lets out a loud whistle, his intense gaze trained only on him, even as Shouyou splutters at the attention, completely sure that his cheeks are bright red considering how warm they feel.

“That sure was impressive, Chibi-chan!” 

Shouyou coughs out a quick, “T-Thanks?” before tearing his gaze away.

“Bakakawa!” The other new person scolds, smacking his friend (?). “Don’t make the first year feel uncomfortable!”

‘Bakakawa’ pouts, “It’s Oikawa, Iwa-chan!”

‘Iwa-chan’ forces a stiff smile on his face, shoving Oikawa away, before nodding at Kunimi and Kindaichi, his smile loosening into something much more genuine.

“It’s good to see you, Iwaizumi-senpai!” Kindaichi nearly shouts.

Oikawa pouts again. “Aw, is it not good to see your captain? Such cruel kouhai I have…”

“No!” Kindaichi definitely shouts. “I mean, yes! It is good to see you! Captain!”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and looks two seconds away from murdering someone, namely Oikawa, even as Kunimi tugs Kindaichi away to take down the volleyball net, and then the two are waving goodbye to Shouyou before fleeing down the hallway, so Shouyou shoves himself into the conversation with all the grace of a newborn crow.

“Hello!” And then he bows, as deeply as he can. “Hinata Shouyou!”

Oikawa snickers at him but when their eyes meet, his eyes flicker with something indescribable. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, shorty.”

Iwaizumi promptly ignores him and smiles at Shouyou. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re trying out for the volleyball team, yeah?”

Shouyou nods before his inner wimp can anguish over whether he was even good enough to be on a powerhouse volleyball team. 

“Of course!” Shouyou says. And then, “Volleyball is my _everything_.”

Rather than look weirded out like everyone else did when they heard of his passion, Iwaizumi just mutters something about there being two of them now- but more importantly, Oikawa drapes an arm around him as if that was completely normal and laughs, a pretty laugh that sounds like the best thing in the world, like bells and whistles and the beat of a hummingbird’s heart.

“Ooh! I like you, Hina-chan!” 

Oh, dear god-

Shouyou didn’t even need to look at Iwaizumi staring at him to know he was most definitely the brightest red a human could possibly be. 

His face certainly felt bright red, like the rushing lava of a volcano before it cooled, his hands trembling even when he clenched and unclenched them in his biggest effort ever to relax.

“I think you’re neat too, Oikawa-senpai!” Shouyou shouts before he can stop himself, then throws his head into his hands when he feels Oikawa freeze and then stagger away with muttered dazed words of the cruelest kouhai of them all.

Oh, god, he was _such_ a bi disaster- such an _idiot_ \- at the very least, he hadn’t echoed Oikawa’s words and made it seem like a confession- but Oikawa had backed away, clearly uncomfortable, _Shouyou_ was making him uncomfortable and they’d only just met and he was already ruining everything-

“Hey,” a calm, soothing voice interrupted, a lone voice in the sea of darkness- _Iwaizumi,_ Shouyou realized, and then a split second after, realized it was so dark because his eyes were closed, and wrenched them open.

To his utter shame, Iwaizumi was kneeling in front of him as if he was some grade school kid, but the warm hands on his shoulders were comforting, if nothing else, and Shouyou tumbled into the open hug before he could stop himself.

The feeling of complete security soon faded as Shouyou remembered just where they were and disentangled himself as quickly as possible, stumbling backwards- oh man, he’d completely freaked out in front of his senpai in the volleyball club.

Iwaizumi gives him one last smile that melts away the shame, if only a little bit. Shouyou does his best to smile back.

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi calls out instead.

“Hinata?” Oikawa shifts on his feet, gaze flitting around as if it couldn’t stay in one place, always moving around but never landing on Shouyou.

He was probably too disgusted to even look at him.

The sound of his full name from Oikawa makes his heart sink but Shouyou guesses he probably deserves that. “Sorry… Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi looks at Shouyou, then at Oikawa, then back at him, then finally pinches his nose and says, “Hinata, did you mind the nickname?”

Shouyou shakes his head fiercely as soon as the words leave Iwaizumi’s mouth.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi says next. “Oikawa, did you mind the honorific?”

“No!” Oikawa blurts out before freezing again. “I mean. It wasn’t… bad?”

Shouyou’s stomach turns and twists into knots. 

It was bad.

He was so _stupid_ -

“It was good!” Oikawa rushes out instead, and then focuses on the ground very, very hard. “It was… very cute.”

Cute.

Oikawa thought _he_ was cute.

Luckily, Shouyou doesn’t have to linger on the thought and question its meaning from several varied interpretations because Iwaizumi drags Oikawa along towards the entrance of the gym.

“We have practice starting tomorrow- the other first years from Kitagawa Daiichi, Kunimi and Kindaichi, are going to be there to spectate as well. Feel free to come if you want, Hinata,” Iwaizumi gives him one last smile, still as reassuring and kind as the last one was, even as Oikawa is still studiously avoiding eye contact.

“I will!” Shouyou shouts, stepping out of the gym. “Um, bye, Iwaizumi-senpai, Oikawa-senpai!” 

Iwaizumi’s smile grows a little fonder and waves a final goodbye before he turns to close and lock the gymnasium door.

Oikawa twitches but then, Shouyou has finally done something _right_ because he looks right at him, warm brown eyes and soft smile, and bids him goodbye and calls him _Hina-chan._

The embarrassing blush sticks to his cheeks the entire time even as he passes through the school entrance, only fading as he sees two very familiar faces and realizes they _waited_ for him, and his heart melts, if only in a much more platonic way.

“Kunimi! Kindaichi!” And, “You waited for me,” Shouyou says, softly, even as Kindaichi shrugs with the slightest hints of heat in his cheeks and Kunimi’s lips twitch up in the faintest remnants of a smile.

“Dumbass,” Kunimi scoffs, lightly punching his shoulder. 

Kindaichi grins at him. “Of course, we’re going to be teammates soon!”

The idea of having both friends and teammates is terrifying, he’s only ever had the former and caught glimpses of the latter.

But both?

Shouyou leaps off the stairs and lands on the ground, unable to keep from smiling at his new friends- his new teammates. 

The walk is spent mostly in idle conversation after Shouyou exchanges his phone number with Kindaichi and Kunimi, finding out that Kindaichi and Kunimi have been friends all throughout middle school, their friendship formed by their unified hatred of a terrible teammate of theirs. He also finds out Kunimi spends nearly all of his free time playing video games and that Kindaichi has to drag him away to study or practice volleyball. 

It’s not all finding out things about his friends though, surprisingly, they ask him things back. It can’t possibly do any harm so Shouyou tells them of the Tiny Giant, of always pushing and practicing but being utterly alone in it, of never having had a team or real teammates before. He also says he _maybe_ likes video games- the ones he can play co-op with an internet friend of his, anyways.

But it’s just as they decide to stop by the nearby conbini for a few drinks and snacks that Kunimi finally asks the question Shouyou has been dreading all day.

“You keep talking about wanting to become the next Tiny Giant,” Kunimi points out, but where others would judge him for his height, his tone carries nothing but indifference. “But didn’t he go to Karasuno?”

Shouyou shoves his entire meat bun he just purchased in his mouth to put off answering, chewing and swallowing even as it burned.

“He did,” Shouyou agrees, quieter than he usually does.

Kindaichi seems to catch on slightly quicker than Kunimi and softens, putting a hand on Shouyou’s shoulder, as the three leave the conbini. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Hinata.”

Shouyou shakes his head, smiles instead. “It’s fine,” he says, rolling his bottle of Aquarius between his hands. “We live too far away. We don’t have the money to move. I couldn’t ask that of her.”

Shouyou shook himself out of his daze, shoving his Aquarius in his bag before realizing Kindaichi and Kunimi don’t seem any less confused.

“Oh!” Stifling a nervous laugh, Shouyou adds, “My dad’s not around anymore. My mom works hard enough to keep the both of us taken care of.”

Kunimi hums, giving him a glance before he offers, “You could have done worse than Aoba Johsai. A powerhouse volleyball team isn’t bad,” and it almost sounds like he’s offering his sympathies, if only in his own way.

“For what it’s worth,” Kindaichi says, carefully, as if considering each word before he said it. “I’m glad you came here.”

Maybe Aoba Johsai wasn’t Karasuno- maybe it didn’t have to be.

Maybe it was _better._

“Yeah,” Shouyou smiles, feeling the sun warm on his face and lingering there for just a moment longer before catching up to his friends. “I am too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love at first spike is maybe (definitely) one of my favorite oihina tropes, considering how Oikawa always seems to look amazed/stunned after Hinata does his quick attack with Kageyama... Your honor, they're gay.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Next update should be posted in a few days!


	2. Jacket Theft

Luckily for Shouyou, his second day of school at Aoba Johsai is much less terrifying and much less boring- Kunimi passes him notes during classes, seeming just as uninterested in classes as Shouyou is, and Kindaichi engages him in conversation during lunch break when Kunimi is too busy tapping on an idle mobile game to talk.

The second day passes startlingly quick and then, as if the day hadn’t just started, the bell rings its familiar tune and it’s _finally_ time.

It takes every fiber of Shouyou’s being to not just bolt towards the gymnasium now that school has ended- but he can’t just leave his beloved friends behind!

He... also doesn’t really remember the way to the gym.

“Kunimi! Let’s go!” Shouyou pleads, Kunimi giving him a blank look and putting his things away at a marginally faster pace.

Kindaichi, luckily, is much more quick, already having crossed the room to their place at the very back, and snorts when he sees Shouyou vibrating in place with excitement next to Kunimi’s mechanical motions as he finally puts on his backpack.

“No need to rush,” Kindaichi says, muffling a laugh when Shouyou pouts. “Practice starts in five minutes, we have enough time.”

Shouyou wilts, even as the three leave the classroom and head out to the gym. “I know that! It’s just, I haven’t done anything volleyball-related with an actual team in ages.”

Kunimi makes a vaguely sympathetic sounding noise. “With how much volleyball there is knocking around your brain, that sounds like a death sentence.”

“It was,” Shouyou frowns, before shaking his head and racing ahead now that the gym doors were in sight. “But it’s different now!”

“Oh?” is all Kunimi says, even as the edge of a smile plays upon his lips.

Shouyou grins when he turns back to face them. “Yeah! I have you guys now.”

And with that, Shouyou pushes the gym doors open to see the mostly empty gym, besides Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who are already arguing.

“I’m just saying, you practically dragged me from our last class, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi huffs at Oikawa before spotting Shouyou and waving at him with a friendly grin.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to see- Hina-chan!” Oikawa’s gaze locks onto him the second he sees him there and approaches him with a bright smile.

Shouyou’s heart skips a beat when he hears the nickname but thankfully, he doesn’t completely explode into gay mush, and smiles back as gracefully as he can. “Oikawa-senpai!”

Oikawa freezes just like he did yesterday, but just as Shouyou’s heart starts to sink, Iwaizumi smacks the back of Oikawa’s head, which luckily causes him to function again, a smile slipping on Oikawa’s face even as he turns to pout at Iwaizumi.

“It’s good to see all three of you here,” Iwaizumi says, Shouyou twisting around to see that _oh_ , he had been so focused on Oikawa that he hadn’t even realized Kunimi and Kindaichi had entered the gym. 

“Yes! It’s good to see you two here as well!” Kindaichi shouts, arms held stiffly by his sides.

Kunimi lets out a long sigh before punching Kindaichi in the shoulder. “We’ll wait by the bench until practice starts- right, Kindaichi, Hinata?”

Shouyou casts one last glance at Oikawa, whose gaze is still locked onto him with all the intensity of a predator staring after its prey, a frustratingly handsome half-smirk on his face, and flushes, rushing past Kunimi and Kindaichi to the bench and shoving himself down to sit.

After peeking just _one_ more look towards Oikawa, past the weird look Kindaichi is giving him and Kunimi’s dead-eyed stare, Shouyou breathes out a silent sigh of relief when he spots all of Oikawa’s attention on Iwaizumi as he scolds him and shoves him into practice stretches.

“So,” Kindaichi says, looking back and forth between Oikawa and Shouyou. “Are we not going to talk about that?”

Shouyou internally screams for a second, sinking further into the bench and wishing he could just sink all the way into the ground. “What is there to talk about?” He laughs instead, a little too loud and forced.

Because the universe hates Shouyou, Oikawa looks over at the sound of his laugh and _winks_ -

For a split second, Shouyou forgets how to breathe.

A moment later, Kindaichi claps his back and startles him back to paying attention, the sound of Oikawa’s laughter, charming and sweet as ever, playing in the background like the world’s best symphony.

“That.” Kindaichi sighs when Shouyou blinks and realizes he zoned out _again_ and gives Kindaichi a sheepish grin. “Oikawa-senpai is an incredible volleyball player but… he’s probably not the best person to get a crush on.”

“Huh?” Shouyou blinks again, cocking his head. “Who said I have a crush on him?”

Then, Oikawa looks over _again_ , this time with a soft smile as he realizes Shouyou has been watching and gives him a small wave, one that shouldn’t feel as intimate as it does, one that makes it feel like it’s only the two of them in the world and-

Kunimi’s loud sigh returns Shouyou to reality, Oikawa breaking eye contact as Iwaizumi smacks him with a hit loud enough to cause Shouyou to instinctively wince in sympathy.

“Okay,” Shouyou says instead. “ _Maybe_ I have a tiny, small crush on him.”

Kindaichi doesn’t look very vindicated by his suspicions being proven correct, though, just sighing and rubbing the back of his neck, before saying, “It’s just… Oikawa-senpai has an entire fan club wherever he goes.”

Shouyou’s heart drops a bit at that but it isn’t exactly a very surprising thing to learn- after all, with Oikawa’s windswept hair, perfectly styled, and-

“He’s kind of got…” Kindaichi interrupts his inner monologue, “a bit of a reputation, is all.”

When Kindaichi doesn’t continue, Kunimi shifts and follows up, “In middle school, he turned down confessions daily. The few people he did date were broken up with before a week even passed.”

“Oh,” Shouyou says, and stares at the ground, even as it blurs, and tries the hardest he can to pretend that he isn’t crying pathetically over a guy he just met the day before and how he has absolutely _zero_ chance at getting such an attractive, charming, kind person like Oikawa when he’s just some short, talentless hack who probably wouldn’t even make it on the volleyball team and-

“Hina-chan?”

Shouyou jerks up at the nickname, the usual warmth to his cheeks painfully absent as he looks up to see the source of his heartbreak, Oikawa, holding his volleyball jacket in his arms and shifting from side to side.

“Yeah?” He says instead, like he hasn’t just been tearing up long enough for practice to begin and the rest of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team to arrive and change into their sports gear.

Oikawa frowns when he sees him, but rather than be disgusted by the sight of a teary-eyed Shouyou, who surely looks like a complete dumbass and wimp, he only tenderly wipes a tear that had slipped past away and then, ever so gently, cups his face, his hand warm and steady.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asks, his voice just as gentle.

Shouyou nods vigorously, brightening when he hears a soft chuckle from Oikawa, who then ruffles his hair when Shouyou pouts at him taking away his hand. 

“If you’re sure, Hina-chan!” Oikawa chirps, and then hesitates for a moment before shoving his volleyball jacket towards Shouyou with a slight flush on his cheeks. “Hold onto this for me? I wouldn’t want to overheat, after all!”

Shouyou stares at Oikawa’s jacket for a moment, uncomprehending.

“Thank you…?” Shouyou smiles at Oikawa, more than a little confused, even as he holds the jacket ( _Oikawa’s_ jacket) with reverence.

“If you’d like, you could also…” Oikawa gestures, before edging further away with a nervous laugh. “Anyways, I think I hear Iwa-chan calling my name so I have to go!”

Oikawa rushes away to Iwaizumi, who had most definitely not been calling his name, and then, with a sudden _whoosh_ , Shouyou’s world expands past just him and Oikawa as he realizes Kindaichi is staring at him, gaping as he looks back and forth.

“Nevermind,” Kindaichi struggles. “I think it’ll be fine.”

Kunimi muffles an uncharacteristic snort, patting Kindaichi on the back. “Yeah,” he drawls, offering Shouyou the smallest hints of a smile. “I do too.”

Glancing at the jacket, Shouyou frowns. “Do you think Oikawa-senpai would mind if I wore it?”

“I think it’d be fine,” Kunimi says.

Well, if even Kunimi thought it would be okay, the same Kunimi who never held back from saying what was on his mind with a brutal honesty, then… 

Shouyou puts on Oikawa’s quite frankly _huge_ jacket just as the Aoba Johsai volleyball team finally starts up a practice match, Oikawa being the first to serve.

Oikawa holds up the ball before tossing it into the air, and then _leaping_ into the air and slamming his hand down into the ball so hard and so fast that the split second after it shoots forward from his hand, it struck the floor on the opposite side of the court with a huge _bam_ like the sound of thunder clapping.

“Woah,” Shouyou breathes, and all he can say is, “Beautiful.”

The opposing team, headed by Iwaizumi, doesn’t let him get another service ace though, Iwaizumi diving to save the ball in a practiced familiarity before shoving himself back up a split-second after to spike the ball that his team’s setter sends his way, a cross-spike shooting past through Oikawa’s team’s blockers.

After that, a pouting Oikawa moves back into formation as the opposing team’s server takes a deep breath before jumping and then serving.

Shouyou tracks the ball as it soars over the net and right towards Oikawa and his smirk, but then Oikawa glances at Shouyou and freezes, Shouyou offering a brief wave, his arms drowned in the length of the jacket’s enormous sleeves, hands barely peeking out.

And then, with a quiet _thunk_ , the ball hits Oikawa’s face and he drops.

Shouyou leaps off the bench, heart thundering in his chest as he flings himself towards Oikawa’s fallen form, who groans and then wearily opens his eyes before spotting Shouyou standing above him.

“An angel..?” Oikawa mumbles, and all Shouyou can do is smile, now that the immense relief from Oikawa being okay and not hurt finally sinks in.

“Shittykawa!” a familiar voice shouts, Iwaizumi dodging underneath the net to aim a hard punch on Oikawa’s shoulder. “Watch the ball, you idiot!”

Oikawa stands up and pouts, rubbing his shoulder. “Sorry, Iwa-chan! It was just a one-time distraction, promise! I’m fine now!”

Iwaizumi huffs out a breath, still glaring, but turns away to face Shouyou and offers him a small grimace. “Sorry, don’t mind that idiot. I’m sure it was scary to see someone just go down like that but this _dumbass_ will be more careful.” Iwaizumi cracks his knuckles and stares at Oikawa with the promise of a thousand punches as retribution if he doesn’t proceed to do so.

Shouyou only nods, letting Iwaizumi steer him back towards the bench, and drops onto the bench right next to Kindaichi and Kunimi, before Iwaizumi heads back towards his team with one last reassuring smile towards Shouyou.

Oikawa casts one last glance at him, a small smile playing on his lips, before resolutely looking forward.

The rest of the practice match goes smoothly, luckily enough, and then, the teams split up into pairs and head to their own separate sections of the gym.

“Individualized practice,” Kindaichi says, with a thoughtful look. “Think they’d let us practice too?”

“Bleh,” Kunimi sticks his tongue out at Kindaichi, shuffling off the bench and towards the entrance. “We’ll be forced to suffer through practice soon enough once we join the team anyways… Can’t we just go to my place and play video games?”

Kindaichi sighs and waves off Kunimi’s response like he’s heard it a hundred times over, standing up as if to leave. “Hinata?”

Shouyou stands up too, but even as he moves to follow, his feet stay glued to the floor. Torn between a practice he hasn’t even been invited to practice at and his friends, it’s all Shouyou can do to just stand there, opening and closing his mouth like a blubbering fish out of water. 

A hand clasps down on his shoulder, Shouyou stifling the reflexive flinch and glancing up to see Iwaizumi in front of him.

“You can practice with me and Oikawa,” Iwaizumi offers instead casually. “We can walk with you as far as we can before we head our different ways.” Kunimi, seeming relieved that he doesn’t have to practice, waves towards Shouyou with Kindaichi before they leave.

“Oikawa-senpai!” Shouyou brightens as Oikawa comes over, flashing a peace sign and all. “Could you show me your jump serve again?”

Oikawa smirks, looking entirely too pleased. “It’s pretty amazing, huh, Hina-chan?”

Shouyou nods vigorously, but before he even opens his mouth, Iwaizumi cuts in, rolling his eyes, “Don’t answer that, Hinata. His ego is already bloated enough.”

“Iwa-chan is so mean,” Oikawa pouts before Iwaizumi heads towards the volleyball cart right besides the wall and throws one at him. 

Iwaizumi points at Oikawa with a stern glare, leaning against the wall. “Just teach Hinata how you do your jump serve.”

The rest of practice flies by almost twice as quickly as the school day had, Oikawa demonstrating his incredible jump serve more than a few times and tossing to him so he could spike, until it ends abruptly, and it’s only when he steps out of the now nearly-deserted gym into the setting sun outside that he realizes he spent hours unofficially practicing.

“That was amazing,” Shouyou breathes. “Thank you so much!”

Oikawa smiles at him, something soft and fond, and ruffles his hair even as Shouyou leans into the touch. “Any time, Hina-chan.”

Shouyou brightens upon hearing that. “Really? Any time?”

“Any time _except_ Mondays,” Iwaizumi answers for Oikawa as he finishes locking up the gym and then turns to smile at Shouyou, following up when he sees Shouyou is still confused. “Mondays are a rest day for the club.”

Shouyou deflates. A whole day every week without volleyball? 

Oikawa laughs at his pain, but the worst part is, he can’t even mind- not when Oikawa’s laugh is as beautiful as it is. “ _Someone_ has volleyball on the brain,” he teases.

“As if you have any right to say that,” Iwaizumi shoots back, walking ahead.

Oikawa gently bumps Shouyou’s shoulder with his own and then laces his fingers together with Shouyou’s as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I wouldn’t want you to get lost,” he murmurs, the warm light of the sunrise casting an ethereal, orange glow upon him.

“Of course,” Shouyou says, even as his breath is being stolen away.

Oikawa tugs Shouyou’s hand and speeds up a bit to catch up to Iwaizumi, who, to his credit, glances at their interlocked fingers just once and doesn’t say a thing.

The rest of their walk is spent in a comfortable silence on Shouyou’s part, too occupied with Oikawa’s hand tangled in his, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s familiar bickering keeps Shouyou from overthinking, laughing when Iwaizumi scolds Oikawa and looking the other way with the slightest warmth rising to his cheeks when Oikawa pouts at him and squeezes Shouyou’s hand.

Then, finally, unfortunately, Oikawa tugs Shouyou to the right when Shouyou knows he needs to head left in order to get home.

“This is it,” Shouyou says, and with a great deal of reluctance, finally lets go of Oikawa’s hand, although Oikawa doesn’t release Shouyou’s hand, only pouting. “Thank you for walking with me this far.”

Iwaizumi nods with a small smile, waving his thank you off. “Of course.”

Shouyou steps away with an apologetic smile at Oikawa, who only pouts further and finally wrenches his hand away as if it was physically painful to do so. 

Right before Shouyou turns to leave, he shivers as a particularly cold breeze stings his already reddened cheeks, which reminds him of how the rest of him is surprisingly uncold-

“Oh!” Shouyou starts, starting to take off Oikawa’s jacket when Oikawa stops him, his hands still warm on top of Shouyou’s.

“Keep it,” Oikawa grins, playful and fond. “You look cuter in it.”

Shouyou blinks and has but one second before he can feel the blush blooming, sinking further into the jacket and stumbling back. 

“Just give it to me before practice tomorrow, ‘kay?” Oikawa continues, and winks.

“Tomorrow, then,” Shouyou breathes out, and it feels like a promise.

Oikawa’s smile softens, looking unbearably fond. “Tomorrow,” he echoes, before glancing back to see Iwaizumi waiting a few feet away at a respectable distance and waving a last goodbye at Shouyou before walking off.

 _Tomorrow,_ Shouyou thinks instead, walking towards his house in the distance, warm in Oikawa’s jacket, a comforting weight when Oikawa’s steadying hand wasn’t holding his own.

When he finally reaches his apartment and slips inside, despite how discomforting the unfamiliar silence is, he walks past the darkened rooms to his bedroom and flops onto his bed.

Shouyou’s phone glows as it tumbles out his pocket and he squints as he brings it close to his face. 

Upon seeing that it’s Kunimi and Kindaichi in the new group chat they had just made the day prior, he brightens, and reads the text Kunimi sent an hour ago before sending a text in response.

 **Kunimi:** Hinata, Kindaichi and I usually do a sleepover at my place every now and then and was wondering if you would be down for Friday and this weekend? 

_Yes!!!!!_ _We can play at least a little volleyball, right?_

A brief moment passes before Shouyou’s phone buzzes in his hands.

 **Kunimi:** … Fine. This is my own fault for befriending a volleyball nerd.

 **Kindaichi:** Yeah, yeah, I’ll make sure to schedule some time in for video games.

Shouyou stares for a second at Kindaichi and Kunimi’s obvious familiarity, wondering if he would be intruding on the two close friends, typing out meaningless words, deleting them, then typing out even more meaningless words and then deleting those too and-

 **Kunimi:** I can see you typing, Hinata..?

_I just… don’t want to intrude is all._

Shouyou lets the rest of his thoughts go unsaid- on how he doesn’t want to fuck up his relationship to the first teammates he’s ever really had, how he doesn’t want to ruin the friendships he’s made with the only friends he’s made at the tight-knit private high school.

 **Kunimi:** Do you really think I’d ask if I didn’t want you to come?

The words, blunt as they are, calm Shouyou’s racing heart. 

Kunimi’s _right,_ after all, he’s never lied or sugar coated his words, even when he probably should have, and Shouyou sinks further into Oikawa’s jacket and smiles.

_That is… very true!! I can’t wait then!!_

Tugging Oikawa’s jacket off reluctantly and hanging it next to his uniform for tomorrow, Shouyou shoves his phone charger into his phone, shimmies out of his uniform and into his pajamas as quickly as he can, and finally tumbles into his soft bed underneath his covers.

Holding Oikawa’s hand, wearing his jacket, actually being able to practice, even if it was unofficially- Shouyou lets out a content sigh and sinks deeper into his bed.

Coming into high school had been terrifying, especially with only the vague but incessant thrum of volleyball in his veins, but meeting Kindaichi and Kunimi, and getting to know his new friends and soon-to-be teammates, along with Iwaizumi, who smiled at him even when Shouyou freaked out and didn’t say a word when he saw Oikawa and him hold hands- and _Oikawa_ , who had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard and the most killer jump serve he’d ever seen and a smile spun out of pure sugar.

 _Yeah,_ Shouyou thinks, as sleep drags him down underneath. 

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then again, is it really jacket theft if it was willingly given..? Oh well! Still a very blessed trope.  
> Thank you again for reading!  
> Once again, next chapter will be up within a few days!


	3. Potential

Shouyou isn’t _scared_ about volleyball tryouts- just… a little apprehensive. He’d been excited all week, chattering his friends’ ears off about volleyball even more than he usually did, but now, actually standing in the gymnasium on Friday, five minutes before tryouts begin and shaky in his sports gear, all he can do is keep his mouth clamped shut as he tries his hardest to not throw up.

It’s hard not to be intimidated when surrounded by at least half a dozen people, all easily half a foot taller than him, if not more- Shouyou’s only saving grace keeping him rooted is being able to hide behind Kunimi and Kindaichi, who are luckily (and unfairly) incredibly tall.

His stomach cramps right then, deciding that actually, he _will_ go to the bathroom, and Shouyou slips out of the gym, stumbles a few steps backwards out into the hallway, only to bump into a wall.

No, Shouyou realizes as he turns around. Not a wall.

“Hinata, right?” The skyscraper of a person leans down, and then continues speaking but it’s lost in a warble of white noise and static. 

Shouyou backs up again, throat dry, only to find to his neverending horror, another wall-shaped person just as tall. 

“Mattsun, you’re scaring the poor tiny first year!”

The spark of frustration that wells up in Shouyou from being called tiny (he was _not_ tiny) is much more comforting than the absolute, overwhelming dread and the deep seated worry of not being good enough for a powerhouse volleyball team.

“I’m not tiny!” Shouyou defends his (admittedly) short height. “I am 5’4.1!”

“Not going to lie, that... does _not_ help your case at all,” ‘Mattsun’ points out, raising one bushy eyebrow.

“Oh, fuck! You dumb bitch, you didn’t introduce yourself!” says the person who also didn’t introduce himself.

“I’m Matsukawa,” he introduces while rolling his eyes, and jabs his friend, “and the dumber bitch over there is Hanamaki.”

Hanamaki scoffs. “Who’s the dumbest bitch then, huh?”

“Oikawa,” Matsukawa says without skipping a beat.

Shouyou frowns when he hears this, startled out of simply listening to the two’s easy banter, which went back and forth so quickly that Shouyou hadn’t even thought to interrupt until then. “Oikawa-senpai isn’t dumb! He’s very nice,” he argues instead, and blinks when the two of them stare at him for an uncomfortably long moment.

“Still can’t believe Oikawa is going to date a first year,” Matsukawa says instead and Hanamaki nods with a great sigh.

Shouyou splutters. 

Were they implying Oikawa was going to date Shouyou? If they didn’t, then were they implying some other first year, and if so, _who_ -

“Hina-chan!” A voice calls out instead, interrupting Shouyou’s racing thoughts, a saving grace with a voice smooth as silk and twice as soft. 

Then, Oikawa drapes an arm around his shoulders and points a finger at Matsukawa and Hanamaki, wagging it disapprovingly. “Are you two being mean to my favorite kouhai?”

 _Favorite kouhai!_ Shouyou thinks and stands up a little taller, leaning into Oikawa.

“It’s been like, two days since school started,” Hanamaki snorts.

“Yeah,” Matsukawa says with a smirk. “Oikawa sure moves fast.”

Oikawa just rolls his eyes and steers Shouyou back to the gymnasium. 

Right before they enter, though, Oikawa pauses, glancing at Shouyou, and murmuring to him, “They didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything, right?”

Shouyou thinks about what they said and its insinuations, but shakes his head. It was embarrassing and confusing, sure, but they didn’t seem to mean any harm. 

“No!” He chirps instead, and then grins. “Why, were you worried about me, Oikawa-senpai?”

Oikawa pouts at his teasing. “You seemed nervous earlier is all,” he says, and then smiles, that same soft smile that melts Shouyou’s heart each time he sees it. “Just wanted to make sure my precious Hina-chan was okay,” and winks, as if he didn’t just call him precious.

Shouyou shakes his head vigorously, as if hoping it would dispel the blush on his cheeks (Oikawa thought _he_ was precious, _Oikawa_ thought-). “No! I mean… I was maybe a _little_ nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” Oikawa reassures him and then reaches for his hand and squeezes. “Your spikes are breathtaking. Everything else just needs... some practice and experience. You have a lot of potential.”

“You think my spikes are breathtaking?” Shouyou brightens. “I think your serves are beautiful!”

 _I think you’re beautiful_ is left unsaid.

“Aw,” Oikawa cooes and, somewhat disappointingly, lets go of his hand- but only to ruffle his hair and then let his hand lay on top of Shouyou’s head. “A man after my own heart!”

When Shouyou only blushes darker and doesn’t respond- what exactly could he say when Oikawa’s joke had been completely right on the mark?- Oikawa just smirks, which makes Shouyou’s heart do a funny little skip. “You’ll do great,” he reassures him one last time, stepping away to open the gymnasium doors and then making a gesture as if to say ‘go ahead’.

He can do this! He can do this.

Shouyou steps into the gymnasium, quickly finding his way back to Kunimi and Kindaichi, and realizing that, luckily, Oikawa’s kind words had managed to calm down most of the whirlwind of thoughts in his brain.

Kindaichi glances at him, as if wondering where Shouyou had gone, when Kunimi gestures to Oikawa, who is just entering the gymnasium shortly after Shouyou did.

“Welcome,” Oikawa declares grandly, “to the Aoba Johsai volleyball team tryouts!”

Regardless of Shouyou’s discomfort, tryouts began, opening up with a practice game. 

Luckily, Kunimi and Kindaichi are both on the same team that Shouyou is. Even more luckily, Oikawa is playing on their team as setter- and Iwaizumi on the opposing team as if to balance it out. Everyone else, however, is just another person trying out for the volleyball team.

“Didn’t you say you were invited to Aoba Johsai?” Shouyou asks, squinting down at the floor as he tries to puzzle it out. “Doesn’t that mean you’re already on the team?”

Kindaichi nods, “Yeah- they just want to see if we’ve gotten better over the summer.”

“It’s more practice is what it is,” Kunimi sighs heavily, and then the game begins.

While Oikawa being on their team is a definite boost, it’s almost completely cancelled out by Iwaizumi, who Kunimi and Kindaichi have referred to as Seijou’s ace- a spike of Kunimi’s that Shouyou is sure will land with a resounding thud is saved by Iwaizumi, flying with enough power upwards that by the time the opposing team’s setter sets the ball, Iwaizumi is already back up to spike the ball with that same impressive force, the ball slamming right past Shouyou and into the court before he can blink.

That, Shouyou realizes, is a true ace.

Shouyou flubs almost every receive he gets and each rare spike Oikawa sets his way grows rarer as Shouyou keeps getting blocked until finally, it feels like the only reason Shouyou is even standing on court is to just screw everything up. 

When he messes up yet another receive and costs his team the set, all Shouyou can see is the backs of Kitagawa Daiichi’s volleyball team as they walk away the victors, Kageyama’s face set in a snarl as he roars- _What have you been doing these past three years?!_

Shouyou is doing his best. He always has, but-

“Oikawa,” Shouyou says instead, gritting his teeth. “Set to me as high as you think you can and then higher.”

If his best isn’t enough, he’ll just have to push himself harder- just one second faster than the other team’s blockers, even by just a millisecond, and he _knows_ he can make his spike count. All he needs is to push himself just one second faster.

Oikawa stares at him, hard, an appraising glint in his eye before he nods and puts his hand on Shouyou’s shoulder for just a moment, and it feels like a promise, even as Oikawa turns away the moment the whistle blows and the second set begins.

The first time Oikawa sets to him, it’s even more beautiful than any other ball he’d been set prior because this time, he leaps into the air, kicking off his feet with as much power he can muster, and it’s the best ball he’s ever been set because Shouyou jumps, knowing he’ll hit it or die trying.

With a resounding smack, the ball flies past into the court with the most satisfying _bam_ , and then silence, for the briefest of moments _._

“Nice,” Kunimi calls out, Kindaichi clapping Shouyou on the back with a grin, but after that, Shouyou glances at Oikawa, buzzing with adrenaline, and finds Oikawa beaming at him and the rest of the world fades away, if only for a second.

“I told you that you could do it!” Oikawa cheers, jogging forward and ruffling his hair. “Go, go, Hina-chan!”

Shouyou smiles, ignoring the fluttering in his chest and the adrenaline still rushing through his veins, and instead asks, “Oikawa-senpai, could you set a little higher next time?”

Oikawa blinks but then nods, with a small, surprised laugh. “For you, Hina-chan? Anything.”

The rest of the second set goes similarly and Shouyou doesn’t manage to spike every ball past the blockers but he does it enough to make a difference, for it to _matter_ , and that’s enough. His receives are clumsy at best but even when he wants to just give up and stop trying, he chases after every ball he can and manages to save a few of them out of sheer spite and willpower alone.

They win the second set but just as Shouyou prepares himself for a final, third set, one of the coaches cuts in, declaring that tryouts have ended even as Shouyou’s heart sinks.

“Already?” Shouyou says, lingering in the gym even as Kunimi shrugs, looking much more relieved than Shouyou is, slipping past him to head to the changing room, Kindaichi following close behind- the rest who had tried out already having entered the changing room. 

Oikawa flashes him a grin from where he stands with the coaches and Iwaizumi, besides him, smiles at him too when he spots who Oikawa is looking at, giving him a thumbs up.

After a moment, Shouyou glances at his palm and smiles- it’s a little red and aches from how many volleyballs he had hit, the same faint red matching his forearms, which bore the brunt of several receives- and then heads into the changing room, just as everyone else begins to head out. 

“We’ll be waiting outside the gym,” Kunimi offers, and when Shouyou only blinks, lets out a small sigh, and continues, punching him in the shoulder, thankfully not hard enough to hurt, “for the sleepover?”

“I remember!” Shouyou says and pouts. “I just… forgot for a second.”

“Too busy thinking about volleyball, huh,” Kunimi guesses with 100% accuracy.

Rather than try to deny Kunimi’s very true statement, Shouyou then focuses very hard on carefully taking his volleyball shoes off and putting on his regular shoes, pushing his volleyball shoes into his duffle bag and glancing up to see Kunimi and Kindaichi had left while he had been busy.

It only would’ve taken a minute, at most… Shouyou puffs up his cheeks, gently pushing the changing room’s door ajar only to hear Oikawa’s loud, heated voice from across the gym and then his hands froze before he could push it open all the way.

“He has potential!” Oikawa says, too loud to be considered a normal volume but not enough to be considered shouting, and Shouyou’s heart sinks as he hears the word _potential._ “You saw him spike.”

“Hinata can jump, that’s for sure,” one of the coaches says. “But it would take a great deal of work to train him in receives, serves, and everything that isn’t spikes.”

Oikawa lets out a loud huff. “I’ll teach him then!”

Then, Iwaizumi’s voice added, sounding just as determined, “I’ll help too.”

“Really?” The other coach asks, sounding surprised, before following it up with, “I trust you, Oikawa, Iwaizumi. If you two really vouch for him, then I’ll respect your decision.”

Shouyou lets the door slip close and stumbles back, dropping onto the bench, the previously clear voices now muffled.

That was… was that good? Bad?

 _Okay,_ Shouyou thinks, and grimaces, before doing his best to categorize his confusing swirl of feelings: That was good! He made it on the team! Oikawa and Iwaizumi both said they’d help him train and personally vouched for him!

But also, that was bad.

If it wasn’t for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, he never would have made the team.

Then, before Shouyou can think for too long, the door opens and reveals Iwaizumi, who blinks, likely not having expected Shouyou to be there, before the realization dawns upon his face as he sees Shouyou’s grimace. 

“You heard all of that, huh,” Iwaizumi says instead.

Shouyou nods.

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to grimace then. “Trashykawa shouldn’t have brought it up to the coaches when he didn’t know for certain if you were gone,” and then, apologizes, “I should have stopped him. I’m sorry you had to overhear that.”

Shouyou shakes his head as fast as he can, and protests, “It’s not your fault, Iwaizumi-senpai! You were both really nice, even though I… kind of suck at volleyball.”

Iwaizumi immediately counters. “You don’t suck, Hinata. You just need experience- most people aren’t born geniuses. If you haven’t had experience, it only makes sense that you wouldn’t be good at the aspects of volleyball that require experience to learn.”

“Besides,” Iwaizumi adds. “You got back up. You failed but you pushed forward- even when others would’ve quit.”

Iwaizumi softens when he sees Shouyou blinking rapidly, and ruffles his hair. “It took me three years to become Seijou’s ace, to get my receives as solid as they are.”

“Really?” Shouyou asks, pretending his voice doesn’t wobble and that he doesn’t lean into Iwaizumi’s hand, comforting and steady.

“I promise,” Iwaizumi says softly, before gently nudging him towards the door. 

Opening the door, Shouyou notices the two coaches are gone, and spots Oikawa, who brightens and jogs over, waving. 

“Thank you,” Shouyou says, even as Oikawa blinks, seeming confused, and Iwaizumi begins to open his mouth as if to say something. “I’ll prove you’re both right about me,” and then straightens. 

“I’ll become Seijou’s next Ace!”

Iwaizumi huffs out a small laugh and settles a hand on his shoulder with warm eyes and Oikawa looks at him as if he sees the sun and the stars and the entire galaxy before him before he smiles, as sweet as the honey Shouyou stirs into his tea and ten times as refreshing.

“I’m sure you will,” Oikawa tells him with a smile and absolute certainty in his voice. 

Shouyou grins and basks in the feeling for a moment- the thought that maybe, he isn’t good enough _yet_ but that he will be, one day, and the thought that maybe, that just wasn’t so bad. 

Then, with a jolt, he realizes Kunimi and Kindaichi are right outside of the gym’s (thankfully) closed doors, still waiting. 

“I’ll see you Tuesday for practice, Iwaizumi-senpai, Oikawa-senpai!” And then, “Thank you for believing me.”

“See you Tuesday,” Oikawa echoes with a fond smile. 

Iwaizumi cracks his knuckles menacingly, although Iwaizumi doesn’t seem half as intimidating as he did on the court, gaze still warm and kind. “Drag Kunimi to morning practice if you have to.”

Shouyou coughs into his hand to muffle a laugh and nods, very seriously. “It would be my honor, Iwaizumi-senpai.”

With that Shouyou waves goodbye and pushes past the doors as Oikawa and Iwaizumi both wave back and brightens when he sees Kunimi and Kindaichi still waiting there.

It’s only as they set off to Kunimi’s house that Shouyou gets lost in his thoughts, stopping by at the conbini for a quick shopping haul. He thinks he spots at least five different kinds of chocolate, eight sports drinks, two packages of salted caramels, and seven bags of chips- three of which were grilled corn flavored, which Shouyou hadn’t even realized was a thing before today.

It’s not that all of Shouyou’s previous optimism has gone up into smokes- it’s just that Shouyou can’t help but wonder, kicking at the pebbles underneath his shoes, arms heavy, with bags full of sports drinks and snacks and dread, that if his best will be good enough to compete with the best of those with infinitely more experience and height.

If it hadn’t been for Iwaizumi _and_ Oikawa vouching for him, and the latter setting the most incredible balls for Shouyou to spike, he doubts whether he would’ve even been given the chance to be on the team at all.

As it was, Shouyou barely even managed to make it as a benchwarmer with the faintest promise of regular.

It was meant as a compliment when Oikawa said he had potential.

Shouyou _knew_ it was meant as a compliment, and when he had first heard it, it only uplifted his spirits but-

All he has to do is close his eyes and he’s back there in his first and last volleyball game in middle school as if thrown back in time, the bitter taint of failure creeping up his spine and wrapping itself around his throat- _What have you been doing these past three years?!_ echoing in his mind in the harshest mockery of an echo.

 _Potential_ , Shouyou decides as he follows Kunimi and Kindaichi as they head into the former’s house, Kindaichi navigating the house as easily as he would his own, _is a double-edged sword._

Everything he could be weighed against everything he wasn’t yet.

Still.

Shouyou has been given a chance, and regardless of whether he deserves it, he will die before he squanders it. He won’t disappoint Iwaizumi and Oikawa, not even if he has to push himself to the brink of exhaustion time and time again to practice.

Kunimi sinks into his bed with a practiced ease, glancing over at Shouyou with curious eyes. “You’ve been pretty quiet so far, Hinata.”

Oops? His brooding hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed after all, then-

Kindaichi nods in agreement, flopping onto the chair at Kunimi’s desk, “I have the feeling the only thing you’d think about that deeply is volleyball but, you did get in, right?”

Shouyou grimaces, sitting besides Kunimi on his bed and only settling in when Kunimi spares him but a cursory glance. “It was close, though.”

“Your spikes are pretty good,” Kunimi praises absentmindedly, before following up with a point that causes Shouyou to wince. “You kind of suck at everything else though.”

“Kunimi-” Kindaichi says, before realizing he has nothing to counter that with, and falling silent for a moment before continuing, unknowingly echoing Iwaizumi’s words. “You just need some experience, Hinata- that’s the only way you can learn.”

“Yeah,” Kunimi scoffs, propping himself up with a surprisingly bitter scowl. “Unless you’re lucky enough to be a genius.”

_What have you been doing these past three years?!_

Shouyou winces, then glances between Kunimi showing more emotion than he usually did to Kindaichi showing less- the only things giving away Kindaichi’s own anger being his fists, clenched so tightly they were shaking, and the harsh glint to his eyes underneath the fluorescent lighting.

“Like Kageyama?” Shouyou asks instead, when neither of his friends seem to be willing to open up on their own.

“Like Kageyama,” Kunimi confirms, scowl only darkening.

“It’s better this way,” Kindaichi shakes his head instead, fists finally loosening. “Everyone on the Aoba Johsai has had to work hard to earn their place. They don’t just get to have everything figured out just because they won the genetic lottery.”

“Yeah,” Shouyou says and frowns down at his palms before brightening. “I don’t suppose you two could show me some super cool tips for volleyball!”

Kunimi shoves his face into a pillow and lets out a muffled groan, before shoving himself back upright and glancing at Shouyou, not a single trace of his previous scowl left. “One hour. And then we’re playing video games.”

Kindaichi grins at him, unabashed, and Kunimi gives him the slightest smile just barely curling the edges of his lips- and despite the cloying knowledge that he isn’t good enough yet, Shouyou can’t help but smile back, knowing that with the support of not only Iwaizumi and Oikawa, but his new friends, he can go so much further than he already can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think these chapters just keep getting longer and longer...  
> Anyways, thank you for reading!  
> Next chapter will be posted within three or four days, possibly sooner!


	4. Biology Test

Shouyou wakes up with a feeling he hasn’t had since high school had begun- the faint sizzling of bacon wafting from downstairs and the muffled clatter of plates clanging against each other- a feeling torn between nostalgia and resentment, brewing underneath the surface of skin.

Blinking blearily as he shoves himself up from Kunimi’s bed, Kunimi long gone, judging by how cold the space next to Shouyou is.

Kunimi had been nice enough to let him join him on the bed, rather than have to rough it on the floor due to not having a bed roll like Kindaichi did.

“Sleep well?” Kindaichi asks, innocently enough, and it’s only after a long moment of staring as Shouyou tries to figure out the nicest way of saying it was _really_ cold- that Shouyou finally realizes, from the smallest tug of Kindaichi’s mouth, that he’s _teasing_ him.

Shouyou huffs, flinging off the blankets to show just how manly he was, before the chill sends a jolt up his spine and he flings back the blankets on him just as quickly.

For whatever reason, Kunimi, that absolute _bastard_ , liked to sleep with the AC on blast all throughout the night. Even worse, Kindaichi is prepared and used to the cold, wearing a large sweater, and just snickers when Shouyou huddles further into his blankets and glares out of his little cocoon.

The door is nudged open and then, just like that, the freezing air is blasted away by the warmth of the rest of the house.

A woman- Kunimi’s mother, he thinks- pokes her head in, softening when she sees Shouyou, still hidden away from the world, only his eyes peeking out. She pushes the door open the rest of the way and Shouyou shudders, this time not from the cold but the pleasant warmth, like a mug of warm hot chocolate (with marshmallows!) after a long snow day outside, and lets the blankets fall away.

Kunimi’s mother smiles at Kindaichi and pushes him out of the room, who just smiles back before making a beeline down the hallway in the direction of the scent of breakfast.

She laughs softly and ruffles Shouyou’s hair and it’s all Shouyou can do to pretend that he doesn’t lean into the aching, familiar warmth of a mother’s love. 

“Honestly,” Kunimi’s mother scolds, but without any degree of coldness to her voice, and tosses him a large sweater from her son’s closet. “Akira should’ve at least offered one of his sweaters.”

“It’s fine,” Shouyou immediately replies and wiggles into Kunimi’s sweater, its scent faintly of salted caramels (which was genuinely kind of worrying- Did Kunimi just guzzle a pack every day? Was that healthy? How was he functioning-) and then frowns when the sleeves hang past his hands. “I smelled breakfast!”

“You smelled correctly,” Kunimi’s mother agrees easily with an ease suggesting she was more than used to teenage boys and their appetites, especially when they were volleyball athletes. “Hinata, right? Akira used to only ever talk about Kindaichi. I’m glad he made a new friend!”

Shouyou nods, a rush of warmth from the word _friend,_ stepping out of Kunimi’s freezer of a bedroom, and then following Kunimi’s mother close behind as she leads him closer and closer to the mouthwatering smell of-

“No,” Shouyou says, even as he grins. “Tamago kake gohan!” He cheers and dives for the closest seat before digging in.

“That’s my sweater,” Kunimi points out, with the usual amount of indifference.

Kindaichi rolls his eyes and points at himself. “This is _also_ your sweater.”

Kunimi squints, before shrugging and turning his attention back to his breakfast, a simple meal of buttered toast and bacon, along with the phone in his lap.

It’s… a surprisingly domestic scene, but even more surprising is how easily Kindaichi, Kunimi, and his mother include Shouyou- as if he had been there from the beginning. 

Like Shouyou isn’t an outsider.

For a brief moment, Shouyou wonders if his own apartment could ever have that kind of simple domesticity with such ease before dismissing the thought.

“Ugh, school is in an hour,” Kunimi says, and smacks his head right into the table just as his mother takes away his plate, along with Shouyou’s and Kindaichi’s, and leaves toward the kitchen.

“No practice, though,” Kindaichi points out, and while it clearly relieves Kunimi, it only makes Shouyou’s heart sink.

No practice means Shouyou has to go home (because even he can’t try and pretend like after an all-weekend sleepover, that he could bother his friends any more) and bounce the volleyball back and forth against the wall in the deafening silence of his apartment, and all he can do will be just think and think and-

“Hinata?” Kunimi asks. “Did you go off to volleyball land again?”

If only. 

“No,” Shouyou laughs instead, a little too easily. “Just something else.”

Kindaichi nods slowly. “Right. Speaking of _something_ else,” and his tone shifts, something angry and searching and in pain. “I heard Kageyama went to Karasuno.”

“Hm,” Kunimi hums, glancing towards Shouyou, who only blinks and pretends as if he is not entirely invested in the conversation now that it’s about the same school that his idol, The Tiny Giant, came from. “Aren’t they called the clipped crows?”

Kindaichi scoffs, harsh and bitter. “With the king, they’ll be worse than clipped.”

He makes a large gesture, a scowl set deep in his face. “I’d love to see him now, dragging down his team like he always has.”

Kunimi makes another, slightly different hum, eyes hard before his gaze catches Shouyou’s and relaxes. “Good riddance to the king,” Kunimi says, deadpan. “I, for one, would love if I never saw him again.”

“Karasuno,” Shouyou says instead, the gears shifting in his head. “That’s not _that_ far, is it?”

“No,” Kindaichi agrees slowly, sharing a glance with Kunimi.

When Shouyou realizes he probably let the silence linger a moment too long and now seems deeply suspicious, he coughs loudly and smiles as brightly as he can- maybe if they’re blinded by his smile, they’ll forget his sketchy behavior! 

“I was just thinking…” Shouyou scrambles for an excuse before brightening. “A practice match!”

Kunimi stares. “Did you not just hear that I said-”

“No, no!” Shouyou sweats, the excuse of having been thinking about a practice match growing weaker by the moment before he blazes a way forward regardless. “It would be... Closure. One last fight against the king before we can never think about him outside of a match again!”

“We?” Kunimi asks, even as Kindaichi seems to be coming around to the idea.

Shouyou winces. 

He had been hoping he would never have to talk about his tainted memories with the former Kitagawa Daiichi setter, about the burn of shame as he remembered crying in front of his enemy. 

“It was my first and last match,” Shouyou says instead and focuses very hard on his fists, clenched tight in his lap. “I was the only member of the volleyball club- I’d worked nonstop for all of middle school, managed to rope a few friends and kouhai to join the team for the tournament but-” 

Shouyou falters from his previous stoic retelling of the horrible tragedy of his middle school volleyball club (or the lack of it), but Kindaichi settles a hand on his shoulder and Kunimi gazes at him, eyes as free of judgement and steady as ever, and resolves to continue. 

“Kageyama said: What have you been doing these past three years?” Shouyou glances up at Kunimi and Kindaichi, who both stiffen at the mention of their former teammate. 

“And all I could think about was how unfair it all was, how I’d poured my heart into volleyball, every spare moment of my time and it all resulted in nothing.”

“It wasn’t,” Kunimi says. “It wasn’t nothing.”

Shouyou huffs out a wet laugh, and scrubs his eyes as hard as he can.

“Yeah,” he says, and smiles, teary and snotty and gross but _real_. “I know that now.”

Kindaichi knocks his shoulder into his own gently and smiles back. “You are the most hardworking person I have _ever_ met, Hinata. And that is an incredible fucking thing.”

“Besides Oikawa,” Kunimi offers, and then smirks. “Your boyfriend might have you beat there- _might_.”

Shouyou’s face feels unbearably warm as he splutters. “He- Oikawa-senpai is- we are not- no!” And then when he feels like his heart rate has returned to a regular pace and his face is probably only pink instead of bright red, continues. “Besides, Oikawa-senpai is way better than me- at everything! Have you seen his serves? Like _whoosh_!”

“So your two modes about Oikawa are gay disaster or twenty compliments per second,” Kunimi sums up, still looking far too amused.

Shouyou glares, and says, “ _Bi_ disaster, thank you very much,” for purely the sake of saying something contrary.

Kindaichi lets out something that sounds like a muffled laugh but when he looks at him, Kindaichi is just blinking with that stupid, overly innocent act, even whistling as a final insult to Shouyou’s intelligence.

“I hate my friends,” Shouyou blatantly lies, face planting on the table so they wouldn’t see his stupid smile, the light fluttering in is chest whispering that maybe life outside of volleyball could be good, could be worth having.

After that, Kunimi’s mother pushes them away from the dining room so they can change into their uniforms and head to school at a reasonable time and _not_ be late.

Luckily, the three first years manage to arrive on time, their walk to school filled with a banter so comfortable that Shouyou couldn’t imagine his life without it (disregarding the few times that Kunimi and Kindaichi tease him about Oikawa- that, he could _definitely_ live without).

The first half of the day passes by in the same way, the same familiarity that was becoming almost second nature, until the bell rings for lunch.

“Oh, shit,” Kunimi says, casually. “My mom forgot to make bentos.”

Kindaichi actually does the smallest pout, kicking at the ground. “I _knew_ there was something I was forgetting,” he mumbles.

“Huh?” Shouyou blinks.

Kindaichi straightens and pats him on the shoulder. “Kunimi’s mom usually makes us bentos for when we return to school- her food is unfairly good.”

Kunimi’s mother _was_ nice.

It would only make sense her food was good.

Kunimi sighs and shrugs. “It’s fine, we can just buy something from the school store,” he suggests, dragging himself out the classroom. 

“Hinata?” Kindaichi asks instead when Shouyou doesn’t follow, too busy digging out his coin pouch from his backpack and finding the unsurprising yet disappointing sight of exactly 46 yen in the form of two 10 yen coins, four 5 yen coins, and six stunningly useless 1 yen coins.

“Not hungry!” Shouyou chirps instead and ignores the warble of his stomach.

Kindaichi nods, slowly. “Right.” And then, leaves the classroom but goes the opposite way that Kunimi had. 

Then, Shouyou is left all alone with only the company of his thoughts.

In front of him are two, distinct paths:

Path 1, he thinks about volleyball and either A) gets super disheartened because he isn’t good enough yet and mopes around for the rest of the day or B) gets super pumped because he has so much further left to go and has to restrain his excitement all day.

 _Okay,_ Shouyou thinks, mentally discarding Path 1, which crumbles away into dust, since it had a grand total of _zero_ good outcomes.

Path 2 it is, then.

Shouyou glances out the window, the smallest of breezes blowing past the small crack left ajar in the window, the wind as swift as Oikawa’s movements, graceful and elegant and beautiful-

“Oh no, Hina-chain!” A familiar charming and smooth voice proclaims dramatically, before Oikawa suddenly appears in his eyesight, draping himself over Shouyou’s desk. “It’s true, then!”

Shouyou stifles a giggle and shoves lightly at Oikawa to get him off his desk, who pouts when he looks up- but the pout doesn’t last a second more because it fades into that same soft smile he always gives him.

“What’s true, Oikawa-senpai?” Shouyou indulges him instead, and pretends as if he isn’t smiling just as fondly back at Oikawa. No matter _what_ Kunimi says, he is absolutely not completely lovestruck by Seijou’s talented, handsome setter. 

Oikawa settles into the desk next to his, turning to face him with a beaming smile and a peace sign. “I heard from a certain teammate that my poor favorite kohai was going hungry!”

“Sh!” Shouyou hushes him quickly, “Not so loud,” before glancing around and relaxing when he saw the few other students in his class were listening to music or lost in their studying, none of Oikawa’s fan club around. 

Oikawa hums for a moment, then moves their desks closer together so that there’s no space between the two and tangles their hands together underneath their desks where no one else can see and when Shouyou flushes and looks away resolutely, Oikawa laughs, quiet and smooth, like the faintest refreshing breeze rustling his hair.

“As your favorite senpai, I decided I would share some of my bento with you!” 

And with a great flourish, Oikawa reveals his bento.

Shouyou blinks. “It’s… all milk bread, Oikawa-senpai.”

“Actually,” Oikawa interrupts haughtily, with a great pout. “It’s all milk bread _sandwiches_ , Hina-chan!”

“Uh huh,” Shouyou nods and can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I guess I know _your_ favorite food then.”

It’s right then that Oikawa relaxes, and it’s only after he does that Shouyou realizes Oikawa had been tense, his shoulders held tighter than usual.

“I _also_ heard you were thinking of a practice match with Karasuno.”

Shouyou freezes. “Maybe?” he says and wishes past him had come up with a much more simple distraction.

“I, for one, would love to crush Tobio-chan,” Oikawa sneers, words dripping with contempt- and Shouyou has to wonder if Kageyama has some innate talent at causing all of his former teammates to utterly despise him. 

“Right!” Shouyou says, deciding that he was in this way too deep. 

Oikawa glances at him and then softens, squeezing his hand before brightening and puffing out his chest. “Plus! We can have _two_ conditions then for a practice game!”

“Two..?” Shouyou follows up, utterly and completely confused. Kageyama playing would definitely be one of the conditions since at least three of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team seem to hate his guts. But the other..?

“You have to play!” Oikawa says, beaming at him.

Shouyou falls silent. 

_Yeah!_ He wants to say. _Of course!_ Shouyou needs experience most of all and this is guaranteed experience. 

“Yeah!” Shouyou says, ignoring his stomach when it cramps and screams _no_. “Of course!”

Oikawa grins at him, before picking up one of the dainty and tiny, milk bread sandwiches and holding it right before Shouyou’s mouth, all with the most innocent tilt to his smile.

“But Oikawa-senpai, that’s- that’s something that-” Shouyou cuts himself off before he can finish, just the thought of dating Oikawa sending a rush of warmth to his cheeks and making him dizzy. The thought of being _Oikawa’s_ boyfriend, of Oikawa being his _boyfriend_ -

Oikawa, with a bit too much obliviousness in his face to be real, just tilts his head. “Something that what?” He asks instead, sweetly- and it’s only then that Shouyou realizes Oikawa is no angel, but a devil disguised as one with an angel’s face and voice and smile and laugh and-

“Nothing,” Shouyou says, and opens his mouth for Oikawa to gently place the sandwich inside, even as red-hot molten embarrassment courses through his veins, only overpowered by the part of him that is internally screaming at his crush feeding him.

Oikawa just smirks, smug, as charming as ever and irritatingly unaffected. 

Swallowing the sandwich, probably a little too quickly, Shouyou grabs a sandwich himself, then turns to face Oikawa- whose face is just a _little_ too close.

 _His eyes,_ Shouyou thinks before he can stop himself. 

_Does he know they’re the most beautiful shade of brown to ever exist- that Shouyou had never seen the color brown as beautiful until he laid eyes on Oikawa?_

And then, Oikawa reaches out the hand that isn’t holding Shouyou’s (which reminds him, he’s holding _Oikawa’s_ hand-) and cups his face, warm and steady. Oikawa leans in, and to soothe the racing of his heart, Shouyou’s eyelids flutter shut.

“Hey, dumbass-” a loud, familiar voice cuts in before immediately falling away. Shouyou weeps for a moment on the inside before opening his eyes and pretending he was most definitely _not_ about to kiss the most handsome boy he’s ever met.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki are at the doorway.

Shouyou sinks further into his chair and wonders if the universe would be kind enough to strike him with a bolt of lightning and end his misery, considering how much it liked to make him _suffer_ -

Luckily, Iwaizumi appears a moment later, and right as Matsukawa opens his mouth to surely say something that’ll make Shouyou jump right out the window, bonks him on the head, glancing only once at Oikawa and Shouyou, before coughing awkwardly. 

“We have a biology test today,” Iwaizumi says, shoving Matsukawa and Hanamaki away and striding over to pluck Oikawa away, only to stare with no small amount of frustration in his eyes when Oikawa doesn’t let go of Shouyou’s hand.

“We agreed five minutes,” Iwaizumi hisses through gritted teeth, and then yanks Oikawa away with enough force to separate their hands. “I gave you ten.”

“But Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines. 

Iwaizumi lets out a great sigh, and then turns to Shouyou with a pleading smile. “Hinata, _please_ tell this idiot he has to study or else he’ll fail the first biology test of the year.”

Shouyou straightens at that, mouth gaping. “Oikawa-senpai!” He says instead, settling his hands on his hips with a practiced glare, and does his best to imitate his mother back when she would lecture Natsu for eating crayons. “You are going to go back with your friends and study right this instant.”

Oikawa splutters, a little red, but when Iwaizumi begins to tug him away, he doesn’t fight back, only weakly packing away his lunch and taking his bento with him. 

“Hina-chan!” Oikawa calls out, just as he passes through the doorway, finally having recovered with a soft smile on his face. “Tuesday after practice, ramen, just the two of us. My treat,” he says, and Shouyou can only nod, as his mind goes into overtime trying to figure out if that was to be a _date_ and if it was a date, did that mean that they would be-

When Shouyou blinks, he realizes Oikawa has already disappeared, and clambers out of his seat and into the hallway, where he spots Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa’s backs as they walk off, bickering as they so often did.

“Oikawa-senpai!” Shouyou shouts, and can’t help but grin like a madman when Oikawa turns back. “I can’t wait!”

Oikawa’s laugh, as perfect and beautiful as the first time he heard it, follows him even as Shouyou shuffles back into the classroom, carefully ignoring his classmates’ gazes and collapsing in his chair, even as Kunimi and Kindaichi show up and tease his over his red face for the rest of the day.

Finally, school lets out, and the three walk as far as they can together before splitting apart, but Shouyou casts a swift glance backwards to make sure neither of his friends are following, makes a left when he would normally make a right, heading right towards the sight of a familiar train station that made his heart ache. 

Catching his train _just_ in time, Shouyou drops into the closest seat and tries to pretend his hands aren’t shaking from nerves. 

_It’s just Karasuno,_ he thinks.

Just one quick look around the school to wonder how different his life would have been if his parents had never divorced or if his father had gotten custody of him instead.

And just one quick look around the gym, to finally put his dream of going to the same school as the Tiny Giant did to rest.

Worst comes to worst, he can just tell them about the upcoming practice match and pretend that’s the real reason why he’s there.

 _Yeah,_ Shouyou thinks and lets out a shaky sigh.

It’ll be fine.

It’s just Karasuno, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, Hinata was supposed to visit Karasuno during this chapter, but a certain Someone barged in...  
> Thank you for reading! Next chapter will be up within two to three days!


	5. Strawberry Shortcake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew some fanart for myself of a chibi Shouyou in Oikawa's jacket!!

* * *

Sneaking into Karasuno is, admittedly, an entirely different experience from what it would probably be like to attend Karasuno.

For one, even though he had shoved the sweater he had stolen from Kunimi earlier that morning on top of his school uniform, it only took one glance at his khaki-colored pants to see that he was definitely from a different high school.

Regardless, Shouyou sneaks past the school gates with as much grace as he can and makes his way to the gym, standing right before the metal doors, and is just about to open them, when-

Ah. 

Shit.

Shouyou realizes, an hour or so too late, that just because Aoba Johsai didn’t have practice on Monday, that didn’t necessarily imply Karasuno refrained from practice as well, if at all.

Which means that Shouyou may or may not have taken the train all the way to Karasuno, only to have to go home after doing a grand total of zero things.

Right! That’s fine.

Shouyou glances one last time at the gym as he backs up to leave, from which he can hear the worst, most tempting sound of them all- volleyball. The _bam_ of a volleyball as it strikes the floor, the whistle being blown as their captain calls them over, and- asking where Tsukishima is?

Tsukishima is a nice name, Shouyou thinks absentmindedly, before he freezes as he realizes he’s staring a Karasuno student right in the face- but this one’s gaze doesn’t slide right over him just as all the others’ had when he sneaked past, it stays fixed on him with a chilling intensity and a terrifying smirk nothing like Oikawa’s.

“Oh? What’s this, a middle schooler?”

Despite the urge to flee or scream, Shouyou stands his ground and glares at the ridiculously tall student. Was he on the volleyball team? With height like that- “No!” Shouyou glares, instead of keeping his mouth shut or running away like his stomach screams he should. “I’m a high schooler!” 

It’s only as the tall, terrifying student’s smirk somehow grows even chillier and the air itself drops into arctic temperatures, that Shouyou realizes admitting that was probably one of the biggest mistakes he’s ever made.

“Really? Since I don’t recognize you from my year, and since I do doubt you have the capacity to be anything older than a first year, I must ask,” and then he smiles sweetly, even as his dead eyes send a jolt of fear up Shouyou’s spine, “what you’re doing spying on another high school?”

Shouyou laughs nervously as he edges away but he has no doubt that the Karasuno student would never let him flee. 

And for the first time, Shouyou is _so_ grateful that he didn’t go to Karasuno.

“Tsukishima!” An authoritative voice calls out from behind him, and when Shouyou slowly turns around, barely registering what must be Tsukishima as he starts laughing, he sees what must be the Karasuno captain. 

This is most definitely the _worst_ mistake Shouyou has ever made.

The Karasuno captain, to his credit, only does one quick double take before sighing and waving them both into the gym.

Inside the gym is standard volleyball club fare from what he can see, a few volleyball carts off to the side and a pretty manager on the bench as she takes notes, although there doesn’t seem to be a coach.

The Karasuno volleyball team- the clipped crows, Kunimi had said- don’t look very clipped. Tsukishima gives him one last withering glance before joining the rest of the team as they run through what must be individual practice.

Any other observations Shouyou could have are cut off as the captain turns to him, polite smile and all. 

“I’m Sawamura Daichi, Karasuno captain,” he introduces, and then drops the smile along with the pretense. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”

Shouyou clears his throat. “I came to ask for a practice match? With the conditions that Kageyama and I play?”

The captain actually brightens at that and gives him an actual smile, friendly even as it screams _rival_. “That’s great! What school are you from?”

“Oh!” Shouyou says, before wiggling his way out of Kunimi’s sweater, as if that would resolve the captain’s question.

“You!” A familiar voice shouts.

“So you know Kageyama?” the captain asks, and Shouyou can only laugh with the faintest edges of manic hysteria.

Unfortunately, Kageyama has stormed over and is now gaping as he stares at Shouyou, who just coughs awkwardly and looks away. This is _not_ how Shouyou wanted to meet his rival for the second time.

“That’s Aoba Johsai’s uniform.” And of _course_ , Kageyama would know that.

The captain stills. 

“Well!” Shouyou struggles to spit out, edging away from the murderous, terrifying crows and towards the door. At this point, he thinks he would rather stare at a wall for three days straight than spend another minute standing in this gym. “I better-”

“Stay for practice, then,” the captain announces far too loudly and draws the rest of the team’s attention. 

Shouyou forces out a laugh and then steps away, even as his brain starts to chant _volleyball, volleyball, volleyball_. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“A spy _and_ rude, what a shocking combination,” Tsukishima says, smug as ever, and Shouyou puffs up his chest and-

“I’ll stay!” he says before he realizes he’s essentially let himself be goaded into doing exactly what he doesn’t want to do, and by then, it’s far too late, the captain clapping him on the back a little too hard, before giving him directions to the changing room in the next building over.

Luckily, Shouyou is always prepared to play volleyball, and once in the Karasuno volleyball team’s changing room, he digs out his volleyball shoes from the very bottom of his backpack and changes into his sports gear as fast as he can, buzzing from excitement and dread. 

Once he’s finished, he sprints out of the room and down the stairs and tries not to wonder about a world where he does that every day, about a world where he’s one of them.

Shouyou is just about to open the door when he hears the captain talking to his team- what is it about people talking about him when they think he’s not there?

“Besides, Tanaka, it’ll give us a chance to see what one of their team is like-”

And with that, Shouyou coughs loudly, the captain falling silent as he opens the door and enters the gym.

“I don’t think I’m half as good as the rest of the team,” Shouyou says immediately, the thought of pretending to have not heard them barely registering in his mind. “But you’re free to see what I’m like!”

“Right,” the captain slowly nods. “You can practice with Tsu-” Tsukishima delivers a harsh glare at the both of them. “Yamaguchi?”

With that, the Karasuno volleyball team disperses as they all practice on their own, although they all seem to be watching Shouyou out of the corner of their eyes, some more obvious than others ( _some_ being Kageyama).

Shouyou turns to face Yamaguchi (?), who just smiles nervously at him. 

“Can I spike?” Shouyou blurts out before he realizes- “I’m Hinata Shouyou!”

“Yamaguchi Tadashi,” he says. “I’m not a setter but I could… try?”

Shouyou blinks, picks up a volleyball. “What position do you play!”

Yamaguchi deflates a little, catching the volleyball when Shouyou tosses it to him. “Pinch server?”

Actually taking a moment to think, Shouyou frowns at the floor, before, “But you’re not going to be a pinch server forever, right?”

Yamaguchi freezes.

“Oh!” Shouyou curses himself when he realizes he probably spoke way too brashly despite his best efforts not to. “Sorry, Yamaguchi, there isn’t anything wrong with-” 

Slowly, Yamaguchi shakes his head before turning to give him a smile, a real one this time. “No, I think you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to practice things other than serves.”

Regardless, Yamaguchi sets for him, calls out an apology on how it’s too high (really, it’s almost like it’s Fate herself, calling to Shouyou and telling him to _fly_ -) and Shouyou smiles, something soft and secret and only for himself, pushes off his feet as hard as he can and soars, and it’s as if, for just one moment, at the very peak of his jump, when he looks down on the court so far below, at Tsukishima and Kageyama the captain and the team-

 _It’s as if,_ Shouyou thinks, the taste of victory so sweet, and he slams his hand down on the ball as hard as he can.

 _It’s as if_ _he has wings._

The ball soars and strikes the ground with a satisfying _thud._

When Shouyou finally lands, he realizes the entire team is still staring at him and he only _sort of_ hides behind Yamaguchi until they finally stop. The feeling of eyes on him still makes his skin crawl, an unfamiliar but pleasant warmth that makes him straighten just the slightest bit- the thought that maybe he’s worth watching.

For the rest of practice, Shouyou, determined to get his new friend some much-needed confidence, tells him the few tips he could remember Oikawa giving him on serves (he had _maybe_ been distracted by Oikawa's perfect smile at the time)- it works out much better than he thought it would, with Oikawa’s tips and Shouyou cheering him on, Yamaguchi’s serves get just the slightest bit better from the confidence boost.

While Shouyou knows it’s probably not the best to help the competition improve, he still tells him a few of the tips on receives he’d gotten from Iwaizumi- number one being, surprisingly, to not always look at the ball. 

Back during the second practice Shouyou had gone to with Kunimi and Kindaichi, Iwaizumi had lectured him when Shouyou had admitted he only ever looked at the ball and pulled him by his ear to sit by the bench as the rest of the volleyball team was in a practice match, making him predict where the volleyball would land and ruffling his hair when he had got it right (which was probably the best incentive he’s gotten for anything _ever_ ). 

Yamaguchi laughs at all the right parts when Shouyou tells him of the whole ordeal, tells him _my sympathies_ with the same tone Kindaichi and Kunimi have when they tease him, and Shouyou can only pout, even as he can’t help but think, in the privacy of his mind, that he and Yamaguchi are going to be excellent friends.

It’s with that thought that practice ends and it’s far more bittersweet than Shouyou had ever thought it could be.

As Shouyou leaves the changing room, wearing his stolen sweater, he stops when Yamaguchi calls out his name, with a sliver of hope that maybe, today doesn’t have to be over yet.

“Do you want to come to a bakery with me?” Yamaguchi shouts, a little too loud, and flushes when Shouyou stares and a laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop himself. “And Tsukki!” He adds with a smile, even when Tsukishima comes up from behind and bonks him, eyebrows furrowed- but it’s a lot less intimidating without the chill, as if it had thawed when he saw the warmth of Yamaguchi’s smile.

Unfortunately, when Tsukishima looks at Shouyou, the chill returns. 

“Oh my?” Tsukishima pleasantly says, even as his dead gaze bores into Shouyou’s skull. “You’re inviting the spy to hang out with us?”

Despite that, when Yamaguchi sets off, Shouyou hesitantly following, Tsukishima still falls in step besides his friend without another word.

“I’m not a spy!” Shouyou frowns and very carefully does not pout. He thinks Tsukishima might actually kill him if he spots any sign of weakness.

Tsukishima snorts and rolls his eyes, pure sarcasm and salt in all his unfortunate height. “Sure, spy. No one looks _that_ yearningly at a shabby high school gym just to inform a volleyball team of a practice match.”

Shouyou splutters even as his heart drops. 

He had hoped no one would notice but Shouyou knew his emotions were always written all over his face- no wonder Tsukishima had noticed, he was so _obvious_ -

Yamaguchi raises an eyebrow but it only takes one glance at Shouyou for his mouth to set in a tight line. “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to, Hinata.”

Unfortunately, just as Shouyou relaxes, Tsukishima lets out a small hum, mocking and cruel, and he tenses up all over again.

“I was going to go to Karasuno before my parents divorced,” Shouyou forces out and glares at the ground. “So sorry for wondering what it might’ve been like.”

A moment of silence lingers, and Shouyou wonders if it’s too late to just make a break for it and run away, before Yamaguchi coughs and knocks their shoulders together. 

“I’m sorry,” Yamaguchi apologizes.

Shouyou blinks before looking back up, seeing a sheepish Yamaguchi and a surprisingly quiet Tsukishima. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

Faltering at that, Yamaguchi just shrugs, but before the three can settle back into uncomfortable silence, Tsukishima speaks up again and shatters it. “And why exactly would you want to go to Karasuno when its only reputation is as the clipped crows?”

The term makes Shouyou wince, it was just so _harsh_ , nothing like being called the King of the Court or powerhouse. “The Tiny Giant,” Shouyou tells them and can’t help the familiar tug of disappointment when neither look amazed. “He went to Karasuno. He’s my idol. I would’ve come but...”

“Hm,” is all Tsukishima says after a long moment, but his voice is marginally less frigid now and Shouyou will take that for the victory it is.

“Right,” Shouyou says, and when Yamaguchi heads into the bakery, he cheers a little on the inside. Surely that means no more uncomfortable questions from Tsukishima, right? Right!

Wrong, Shouyou realizes as the three settle at a table, the other two with a startling amount of familiarity.

Just as Tsukishima opens his mouth, Shouyou is struck by the worst case of deja vu from Tsukishima’s last overly blunt question, but all he has time to do is just sink into his chair as his last hope walks off across the room to where all the cake is.

“Your parents divorced,” Tsukishima says, far too casually.

Shouyou just nods, unsure of what to say to that.

After another long moment, Tsukishima says, through gritted teeth, “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Shouyou agrees, before realizing that this was Tsukishima’s best attempt at sympathy and does his absolute hardest not to laugh, only smiling at the salty french fry sitting beside him, who was kind enough to sympathize with him but too tsundere to admit it.

“Thanks, Shimashima!” Shouyou grins, even as Tsukishima freezes at the nickname that even Shouyou himself would admit is the absolute worst.

Before Tsukishima can even hope to recover, Yamaguchi finally returns to their table with exactly three slices of cake, all three strawberry shortcake.

It’s only as Shouyou chomps into the cake, the glistening strawberries as sweet as he thought it would be, that he realizes he has exactly 46 yen- which he has a terrible feeling is _not_ enough to pay for a slice of cake. 

“Uh, Yamaguchi-” Shouyou starts before he cuts himself off and sinks further into his chair, embarrassment blossoming and his face warm.

Tsukishima glances at him and then rolls his eyes and slides Yamaguchi two 1,000 yen notes. “I’ll cover today.”

Yamaguchi blinks, looks between the two of them, then a smile blooms. “Thanks, Tsukki! I’m glad you made a new friend!”

Tsukishima denies it vehemently but makes no move to take back the money, which only makes Shouyou’s guilt expand tenfold until it swallows him whole.

“I’m sorry, Shimashima,” he apologizes, even as all he wants to do is sink into the ground and disappear, ignoring how Yamaguchi twitches with barely suppressed laughter when he hears the nickname, before brightening when he realizes how he can make it up to his new friends. “I’ll pay for next time!”

“Who says there’ll be a next time?” Tsukishima snorts but when he looks at him, it’s as if winter is no more- as if spring has come. 

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi scolds and grins at Shouyou as if conspiring. “I’m sure I can convince Daichi to let you join in on Monday practices at least every other week.”

Shouyou grins right back, even as Tsukishima lets out a groan that is at least 80% false bravado. “As long as we get cake afterwards, I think I can sneak away!”

Tsukishima sighs loudly. “I’m stuck with _two_ idiots as my friends now.”

“Aw, Shimashima, we’re friends?” Shouyou cooes, and cackles when Tsukishima lunges at him, only restrained by Yamaguchi, who stifles his laughs as best as he can and blinks and smiles innocently when Tsukishima finally settles back down with a glare and flushed cheeks. 

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, with all the grace of someone blatantly telling a lie but completely unashamed of it.

“I hate both of you,” Tsukishima informs them before smirking and stealing the strawberry on top of Shouyou’s cake and licking his lips after he eats it. “Oh no!” Tsukishima gasps as theatrically as possible before looking Shouyou right in the eye. “Oops.”

Shouyou mourns for a brief second and clutches at his shirt before whipping his finger out to point towards Tsukishima, eyes narrowed and set in what he hopes is a deadly glare. “You cruel, cruel, salty french fry.” 

However, the moment lasts for just one brief second before Shouyou bursts into laughter at Tsukishima’s comedically offended expression, Yamaguchi once again snickering but pretending not to be whenever Tsukishima glares at him. Tsukishima finally heaves out one last, great sigh but there’s the smallest quirk to his lips that tells Shouyou he isn’t actually mad. 

And then, it seems that just mere moments after Shouyou had snuck into Karasuno, it’s over- and for good, this time. 

Unfortunately, Shouyou’s goal of putting Karasuno behind him didn’t really work out, but he did somehow manage to make two new friends! 

Yamaguchi was kind and listened to what he said and didn’t judge him for his height. Meanwhile, Tsukishima had a dramatic streak a mile wide, and, even more surprisingly, was _also_ kind, even though he pretended not to be. 

Waving goodbye at Tsukishima and Yamaguchi as they split ways after having exchanged their contact information, Shouyou heads off to the train station with a little spring in his step, wondering just how many more friends he’ll have that he hasn’t made quite yet.

 _Yet_ , he thinks, and grins at the intersection of volleyball and real life.

There’s so many more friends to make, so many more volleyball games to play, so much he has to learn- he nods as seriously as he can at the two crows across the path before settling in on the train. 

Shouyou thinks about Oikawa and their maybe-date for tomorrow and the future laid in front of him and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Tsukishima and Yamguchi completely hijacked this chapter huh...  
> Thanks for reading! Unless I say otherwise, chapters will continue to update after two to three days (since that seems to be the trend...)!


	6. Invincible

The worst thing about having a crush on Oikawa, Shouyou decides, isn’t Kunimi and Kindaichi’s endless teasing or Matsukawa and Hanamaki snickering whenever he goes within five feet of Oikawa or even Oikawa when he teases him and touches his shoulder and lets it linger there _one_ too many times for it to be entirely platonic.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Oikawa’s fan club- the same one Kindaichi and Kunimi had warned him about when they had first learned of Shouyou’s crush on Oikawa. 

From obstructing Shouyou’s view of Oikawa in the hallway the rare couple of times he would wander to the first years’ floor, to mobbing Oikawa during lunch if he left his classroom, 3-6- which Shouyou had learned the hard way after visiting the third years’ floor earlier that day in an attempt to spend lunch with Oikawa after their last one had been interrupted- and _no,_ despite what Kunimi said, he most certainly did _not_ pout the rest of the lunch period. 

The Oikawa fan club was, unfortunately, almost entirely composed of girls and the only thing worse than their crushes on Oikawa (which Shouyou couldn’t really blame them for- it only took one look at Oikawa as he performed his jump serve to fall in love), was how intense they were in their admiration.

After practice had officially ended, rather than stay behind to practice as long as he could, Shouyou had instead immediately sprinted towards the changing room and then left as soon as he came. He'd decided to wait outside the gym, but, terrifyingly enough, there were at least a dozen girls peering through the door as he slipped past them.

Finally, the door slams open, the girls all having jumped back, one of the girls’ elbows bumping into Shouyou _hard_ without even a single glance backwards, and he has to grit his teeth to not let out an embarrassing yelp from the flash of pain in his chest.

Still, it’s not the worst injury he’s ever gotten, thanks to volleyball- Shouyou grumbles regardless under his breath, well aware he’s probably pouting as Oikawa somehow spots him, even through the haze of teenage girls.

“Hina-chan!” Oikawa calls out, with a dazzling smile. 

Shouyou wonders if it’s too late to find another crush. 

One at least a _fraction_ less embarrassing, hopefully. One that won’t do things like feed him sandwiches or call him embarrassing nicknames in public when he _knows_ Shouyou will blush and that people will see and judge-

All too soon, the Oikawa fanclub finally realizes Oikawa is calling out to _him_ , and they all fall away, a path carved for Oikawa as he walks over to Shouyou, completely unaware or uncaring of their presence, gaze only on Shouyou. 

“Oikawa-senpai,” Shouyou whispers, tone as harsh as he can make it, and tugs at his blazer to try to go and walk away, only for Oikawa to blink before a wicked smirk crosses his face and he taps his chin.

“You know what I think, Hina-chan?” Oikawa asks, far too pleasantly. “I think you might get lost on the way to the ramen restaurant.”

Despite the annoyance that twitches from Oikawa’s smug tone and the embarrassment stirring in his stomach, Shouyou won’t _lie,_ won’t act like his hand doesn’t feel _right_ in Oikawa’s hand- like that was where it was meant to be.

Just as he interlocks his fingers with Oikawa’s, Shouyou’s gaze catches on one of Oikawa’s fanclub members and he remembers that _right_ , they’re in public- 

Wait, did Oikawa know that? Of course Oikawa knows, but did he _know?_

Oikawa probably only saw him as a friend and didn’t realize people would think they were a couple even though they weren’t (even if Shouyou wanted, wished that they were) and Shouyou was taking advantage of his poor, overly kind and trusting senpai and-

“Hinata?” The unfamiliar word doesn’t roll off of Oikawa’s tongue like all of his words usually do, evident through how uncomfortable Oikawa sounds saying it, as if forcing it through gritted teeth.

“Oikawa-senpai?” Shouyou asks, tilting his head, even though he’s pretty sure _he’s_ the one who started thinking a bit too much (although, maybe he _should_ be thinking about it)-

“You just drifted off for a moment is all,” Oikawa tugs him forward, Shouyou following close behind as they make a sharp right at the end of the hallway, away from prying eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Oikawa adds, voice low and worried and making Shouyou melt into a puddle of happy goo.

“I’m always happy when I’m with you!” Shouyou chirps, before his cheeks flush in a familiar warmth and he realizes that that’s _exactly_ the type of thing he should stop saying if he doesn’t want any observers to think they’re a couple. 

Oikawa stops dead in his tracks.

Before Shouyou can overthink, he glances over and there’s something in Oikawa’s eyes that makes his breath hitch, something unbearably soft, a terrible fondness that makes his heart ache- he looks at him, soft and kind and reverent, as if Shouyou is his world and Oikawa is only in his orbit.

It isn’t Oikawa’s handsome smirk or charming smile or adorable pout that makes Shouyou realize this goes _far_ beyond a simple crush, it isn’t even his killer jump serve that had first drawn him to Oikawa- but this single moment, built on the foundation of a hundred others, of a thousand soft smiles Oikawa has only ever given him.

“Shouyou,” Oikawa breathes his given name so carefully, like it’s a butterfly cupped in his palms, like its wings might flutter away if he speaks it too loud- like it’s something precious.

The thought of referring to Oikawa so casually makes his heart skip a beat but regardless, he pushes through, the law of equivalent exchange, and tries not to stumble over his own feet when he says a near-silent, “Tooru,” and thinks he understands why Oikawa had said Shouyou’s name so carefully.

A warm smile blossoms on Oikawa’s face, beautiful as ever and making Shouyou’s heart flutter, but just as Shouyou thinks they might actually do it, might actually _kiss_ , he pulls away and resumes walking.

“Oikawa-senpai?” Shouyou asks, and can’t help but laugh a little when Oikawa scrunches up his nose.

“What happened to Tooru?” Oikawa sulks, looking stupidly adorable as he pouts. “My Shou-chan is so mean…”

Rolling his eyes with a fond smile, Shouyou makes it exactly three steps before his mind goes: _Shou-chan?_ and then, _My?_

Oikawa glances at him, noticing how he fell silent, and shifts as if it would hide the hurt in his gaze. “If it bothers you-”

“No,” Shouyou blurts out, and then coughs to try and hide the embarrassment that came from the pleased flush on his cheeks from being called his. “I would like… being yours.”

Oikawa lets out a strangled sound and even as Shouyou just blinks and smiles, unsure of what he did, his crush staggers away, their hands falling apart, and Oikawa points at him with narrowed eyes. “You can’t just say stuff like that!” Oikawa insists, his voice tinged with manic desperation.

Shouyou frowns, looks at the ground, and says, “I only said what’s true.”

Oikawa puts his head in his hands and screams very quietly before looking back at Shouyou and grabbing his hand while walking twice as fast as he had been earlier.

“Oikawa-senpai,” Shouyou struggles to keep up with Oikawa’s unfairly long legs as they leave the school and curses his cruel genetics- he can’t exactly admire Oikawa’s handsome face from the corner of his eye if Oikawa is zooming ahead at the speed of light, “can we slow down? Just a bit?”

Oikawa only spares him a single glance before looking forward resolutely with a pout. “No. Iwa-chan said it would be bad etiquette to kiss _before_ a date and you’re being really unfairly cute.”

Shouyou blanks.

“Date?” he echoes, even as his mind is a thousand miles is away.

Shouyou was on a _date_ with Oikawa- wait, Oikawa just said he was _cute_ \- wait, double wait, did this mean-

Before Shouyou can sort through the confusing, tangled mess of his thoughts, Oikawa brightens and leads him into a tiny restaurant, to the bar seats furthest back.

“Ta-da!” Oikawa says with a great flourish before settling in with a small cough, looking away with a slight flush to his cheeks. “I know it’s not very fancy but I thought I would take things slow and casual, and _then_ , for our second date-”

“Second date!” Shouyou shouts, a little too loud, given how a few of the other patrons give him strange looks, and he sinks into his seat next to Oikawa to hide from their judgement. “Does that mean…”

Oikawa glances at him for a long moment while placing their order with the chef before going, “Oh!” and smacking his head with his palm, then straightening and looking Shouyou dead in the eyes with an intensity that leaves him breathless, with an intensity that makes the rest of the world fade away. 

Oikawa reaches out and holds Shouyou’s hands with his own, and with the softest of smiles, “Hinata Shouyou, will you allow me the honor of being your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend,” Shouyou says. “You.”

Oikawa huffs out a small, nervous laugh with the most vulnerable look in his eyes, his hands pulling back, and it’s _that_ that snaps Shouyou back to earth, the knowledge that if he doesn’t say something, he might actually do the worst thing of them all and-

“Only,” Shouyou tells him, “if you allow me the honor of being yours.”

It’s then that Oikawa brightens, and _finally_ , leans over, cups Shouyou’s face, as gently as he did the first time, and his lips brush against Shouyou’s for but just one brief moment, tasting like the sweetest of beginnings and promises for the future, and then, all too soon, pulls back.

“Woah,” Shouyou breathes out, and Oikawa does a little smirk at that, smug and pleased, before it softens and Oikawa brushes his hand over Shouyou’s face, careful and slow as if memorizing how it felt in his palm. 

“So,” Shouyou says, looking at the bowls of ramen that had appeared while he had been preoccupied, even as he thinks he might explode from the giddy happiness inside his chest, “we’re dating now?”

Instead of just answering with a simple yes, Oikawa lets out a small hum as if in thought before taking a painstakingly long moment as he (somehow) gracefully slurps some of his ramen and slowly chews, giving Shouyou the terrible suspicion he’s going to embarrass him to death. “Let’s see,” Oikawa begins. “ _A_ _m_ I dating the most adorable, hardworking, friendly and adorable boy I’ve ever met?”

Shouyou splutters even as his face grows warm and does his best to glare at Oikawa, “You can’t just say adorable _twice_ , Oikawa-senpai-”

Oikawa pouts at that, looking far off in the distance. “You call me Tooru _once_ and then never again, huh. Mean Shou-chan.”

“That’s how sports clubs’ hierarchies work!” Shouyou insists, before scrunching up his face. “I think.” He’s not _entirely_ sure, given how he’s never been in a real sports club before.

“Well,” Oikawa draws out, rolling his eyes fondly. “I think dating overrides that.”

Shouyou grins at him, as the word _dating_ echoes in his mind like the sweetest melody. “I think you might be right... Tooru!”

With that last word, Oikawa freezes before he lets out a great sigh and pouts at him. “My Shou-chan is too cute…” he says, but his dramatic, forlorn tone is betrayed by the look in his eyes- the one that steals Shouyou’s breath away, the one that says _you are mine and I am yours_ and speaks of a hundred dates more to come and a thousand stolen moments that they still have left together.

“You’re beautiful,” Shouyou says instead, and in that moment, it’s the truest thing he’s ever said, the truest thing he’s ever _felt_ , basking in the warmth of this one, single, perfect moment of time with his boyfriend (!), in a crowded ramen restaurant and sweat cooling on his skin from volleyball practice, but knowing there was nowhere he’d rather be.

“Really?” Oikawa asks, but it isn’t even a question, and then, with just as much honesty in his voice, tells him, as if it were truth itself, “You’re breathtaking.”

Warmth blossoms across his skin but he can’t even be bothered with the pretense of embarrassment as a rush of contentment blooms in its place, Oikawa draping an arm around his shoulder, and thinks _this is where I was meant to be, this is where I belong_. 

When Oikawa asks about his middle school, Shouyou spills everything, going far more in detail than he did with Kunimi and Kindaichi, unable to refrain from anything other than complete and utter honesty when Oikawa looks at him as attentively and full of care as he does. 

The rest of their date goes perfectly, better than Shouyou could have ever even imagined, Oikawa’s arm a warm and steady weight around him the entire time and every time the conversation falters or Shouyou starts to overthink, Oikawa always has another question or story up his sleeve, and after it finally ends, Shouyou’s cheeks ache from how much he smiled over the course of the last hour. 

Then, Oikawa retrieves his wallet and it’s for the third time within the span of two days that Shouyou’s stomach sinks in that terribly familiar way.

46, Shouyou decides, is the worst, stupidest, most terrible number _ever_. 

“Oikawa-senpai,” Shouyou starts, the name and honorific out of pure habit before amending, “Tooru… I only have 46 yen. I’m really sorry-”

Oikawa blinks and with a fond laugh, only ruffles his hair. “I asked _you_ out on a date, Shou-chan, it’d be awfully rude to make you pay.”

“You’re sure?” Shouyou asks, and tries to pretend his voice isn’t as vulnerable as it is.

Softening, Oikawa just gave him another nod before paying and then turning back to him with a mischievous smirk. “Besides, it’s the least I can do as your _boyfriend_!” he sing-songs, and laughs when Shouyou’s face turns red from the word.

“You’re so mean,” Shouyou says with a huff when he’s sure his cheeks aren’t _as_ red, but when Oikawa laces their fingers together as they leave the restaurant, he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even think of it. Then, when an idea for payback strikes him, he brightens, and pulls his hand away even as Oikawa pouts, and sticks his hand out. “Your jacket, please!”

Shaking his head, Oikawa pulls out his huge Aoba Johsai jacket with the fond smile betraying his grumble. 

“As your boyfriend,” Shouyou tells him, even as he stumbles over the word, soft and unsure, “I am stealing your jacket,” and then, as salt in the wound, sticks his tongue out at him.

Oikawa- his _boyfriend_ \- just grins at him, a little too smug for his liking. “Given how cute you are in it, I don’t have any objections, Shou-chan!”

Shouyou glares, even as he puts on his boyfriend’s jacket, before he can’t help but smile at how huge it is on him, the sleeves swamping his arms, and swats at Oikawa with one of his sweater paws and laughs, free and pure, when Oikawa shrieks, high-pitched, as one of his admittedly not-very-hard hits connect.

“Mean boyfriend,” Oikawa sulks and kicks at the ground.

“Mean, maybe,” Shouyou says, and then, before he can overthink, leans up on his tip toes and presses a light kiss on Oikawa’s cheek before pulling back and looking away determinedly, steadfastly ignoring the certain blush on his cheeks. “But yours.”

“Mine,” Oikawa echoes dreamily, and Shouyou rolls his eyes even as his heart flutters at the word and a burst of affection fills his chest, and, grabbing Oikawa’s hand with his own, tugs him forward.

As Shouyou walks with his boyfriend, the thought strikes him- 

If he had gone to Karasuno, if his parents had stayed together or if his dad had wanted him instead, would he ever have met Oikawa, ever have fallen as hard as he did for the stupidly handsome Seijou setter? 

Would he have met someone else- would _Oikawa_ have met someone else and fallen in love with them instead- someone who would be infinitely better than Shouyou, more attractive or more outspoken, someone who didn’t have a thousand thoughts buzzing in their head and dread lurking underneath their skin?

It’s that last thought that hits a discordant note, that weighs down his heart and clings to him even as he tries to shake it off- it doesn’t matter, Oikawa chose him, _wanted_ him, but-

“Shou-chan,” Oikawa’s voice cuts through his thoughts and Shouyou blinks past the fog of his thoughts as it begins to recede and make way. 

Shouyou tries to smile, he _does_ but all he can think is _not enough_.

Why would Oikawa even want him when he has an entire fan club to pick and choose from?

“Shouyou,” Oikawa insists as they walk onwards and Shouyou tears his gaze from the ground to meet Oikawa’s steady gaze, as Oikawa leans over and presses a kiss into his hair, soft and sweet and a promise in and of itself. “I promise whatever you’re thinking isn’t true, okay?”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking,” Shouyou says, but Oikawa shakes his head before he even finishes speaking.

“I know,” he tells him, and the concern in his voice makes Shouyou melt into Oikawa’s touch as he tangles his hand in Shouyou’s hair and cradles his head gently, as if he is his everything, “that anything that makes you look _that_ sad couldn’t ever be true.”

Shouyou smiles a little at that, Oikawa has always been unfairly sweet, even when he was sure he’d never done anything to deserve it. “Why me?” Shouyou asks instead, holding his breath even as the vulnerability of asking makes him feel torn in two.

“Why anyone else?” Oikawa responds easily, and when Shouyou remains unconvinced, continues, with a voice so soft it would make angels weep, “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as hardworking when they’ve been pushed down at every turn, only to bounce right back, all 5 foot and 4.1 inches of pure determination and passion.”

“Plus,” Oikawa chirps with a fond smile as they finally arrive at Shouyou’s apartment, “bright orange hair and a smile as blinding as the sun! It should be illegal how cute you are.”

“You think _I’m_ cute?” Shouyou says instead when he finally finds his voice, smiling at his complete sap of a boyfriend. “Have you seen yourself?”

Oikawa laughs and calls him _heartbreaker_ with that teasing lilt to his voice, and despite how Shouyou knows their date has come to an end after only a few hours at most, he doesn’t let go of Oikawa’s hand.

“C’mon,” Oikawa says, softly, withdrawing his hand and wrapping his arms around Shouyou in a comforting embrace. “We’ll see each other tomorrow, okay? Promise.”

Shouyou pouts- he can’t help it, he’d only gotten a few hours to spend with Oikawa and now, all too soon, it was over, just like that, and he had to go home and live with the silence. “Text me?” He asks, typing in his number into Oikawa’s contacts when he hands him his phone. “And I’m keeping the jacket!”

Oikawa laughs, soft and sweet and perfect. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Shou-chan.”

And then, with one final hug that doesn’t last nearly as long as he wishes it would, Oikawa is gone, and Shouyou is left alone to trek all the way up to his floor, entering to find no one home- the worst part is, he thinks, that it doesn’t even sting anymore.

“I’m home!” he calls out anyways into the deafening silence of his apartment, sighs when he doesn’t hear a response back despite already having known there wouldn’t have been one.

Then, when he sinks into his bed, Shouyou smiles despite himself, thinking of Oikawa, his boyfriend, who, for whatever reason, wanted _him_ , thought he was cute and passionate and hardworking- 

Oikawa, who thought he was breathtaking.

 _Yeah_ , Shouyou thinks, _there really isn’t anything much better than that._

A charming boyfriend, an upcoming volleyball match with his powerhouse team, and a handful of incredible friends.

There was absolutely no way anything could ever go wrong.

As long as he had them, no matter what happened- he was invincible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, this chapter has been the hardest out of any to write... I hope it doesn't disappoint..!  
> Additionally, just wanted to say that the next chapter is quite a bit longer than usual!  
> Thank you for reading!


	7. When the Day Had Begun

When the day had begun, Shouyou had been excited, ecstatic even- and when he met up with Oikawa to walk to school together, he was nearly vibrating with excitement (along with a fair bit of anxiety) as they neared the school.

“My friends, Shimashima and Yamaguchi, are on the Karasuno team!” Shouyou tells Oikawa and grins at his boyfriend’s flabbergasted expression.

“It’s only been a few weeks and you’ve already befriended the enemy,” Oikawa says instead, sighing, but walking Shouyou to his classroom regardless (which he had insisted on doing as much as he could- as his “duty” as Shouyou’s _boyfriend_ ). “Can you at least promise me you won’t do this with every team?”

“Hmm,” Shouyou pretends to contemplate before sticking his tongue out, unable to hold back his laugh at Oikawa’s overly dramatic, all-suffering look. “Nope!”

Oikawa gives him a stern look but it crumbles after mere seconds. “You’re gonna kill me, Shou-chan,” he whines.

“I would never kill you!” Shouyou insists, and then, “Maybe.”

At Oikawa’s offended squawks, Shouyou holds back a laugh and instead, tugs Oikawa down and stands on his tip toes to press his lips against Oikawa’s forehead in a gentle kiss and only hopes it can convey that despite the teasing, his feelings for him aren’t any less true.

Luckily, Oikawa perks right back up with a pleased little smile, so it seems the message was received- with that, Shouyou pushes him away, knowing if he didn’t, Oikawa would almost definitely ignore how they were in _public_ and just kiss him. 

And as much as Shouyou would like to pretend he wouldn’t melt right back into the kiss and forget where they were, he knows himself well enough to know that was _exactly_ what he would do.

Right as they arrive in front of his classroom, Shouyou withdraws his hand and before Oikawa can complain, wraps his arms around his boyfriend, who eagerly returns the hug, and Shouyou lets himself forget everything else for just one moment, safe within Oikawa’s arms, warm and steady.

Just as Shouyou grows comfortable, he forces himself to pull away and pats Oikawa when his hands linger on Shouyou’s waist, even as the stares of classmates make his stomach sink, make Oikawa’s hands feel like they’re burning instead.

“I’ll see you during lunch?” Shouyou asks, unsure, and breathes a small sigh of relief when Oikawa nods without a single moment of hesitation.

“Of course!” Then, Oikawa pouts. “I don’t know if I’ll survive until then without my precious Shou-chan-”

Then, with all the strength and force of a tsunami’s colossal wave as it crashes onto shore, Iwaizumi arrives, and with a great shove, pushes Oikawa away mid-complaint.

“Shittykawa, I swear to god,” Iwaizumi hisses out threateningly, “if I hear about you being late to class even _one_ more time…”

“Sure, _mom_ ,” Oikawa says, and then cackles as he sprints away from Iwaizumi’s death glare. “Bye, Shou-chan!”

Iwaizumi sighs, rubbing his temples and offering Shouyou a smile so tired that he can only be grateful that he doesn’t have to herd Oikawa into attending all of his classes on time, pulling Shouyou away from his classroom and turning the corner towards a quieter section of the hallway. “He hasn’t been too much, yeah?”

Shouyou blinks, relaxes when he realizes no one is around to judge. “Too much?”

“That dumbass can be…” Iwaizumi trails off for a moment before deciding upon, “a bit of a handful.”

“A handful?” Shouyou echoes, and then, when he realizes he sounds a bit like a parrot, “What do you mean?”

“You looked a bit…” Iwaizumi frowns. “I was worried, is all. Oikawa can be a dumbass but you can talk to him if-”

Shouyou shifts and laughs a little nervously. “It wasn’t him!” And then, “It could _never_ be him, he’s great.”

It wasn’t Oikawa’s fault.

Oikawa was a good boyfriend, the _best_ boyfriend anyone could ever ask for- he walked Shouyou from his apartment to school every morning without a single complaint, and even when Shouyou told him he didn’t have to and gave him an easy out, all he did was smile and laugh, told him that he wanted to.

“It’s good to hear that,” Iwaizumi says instead, and with a small smile, “he’s happier when he’s with you.”

Shouyou shifts a little at that. “He _always_ seems happy, though?” he questions, tilting his head as he tries to puzzle it out. “Not that anyone could be happy _all_ the time but-”

Iwaizumi cuts him off with a shake of his head and a fond smile. “Don’t worry so much, Hinata, I know what you’re trying to say.”

After, a brief moment of silence passes, Shouyou only barely managing to stay still despite his nerves- he knows Iwaizumi would _never_ be mean to him, even if he deserved it, wouldn’t say anything cruel.

“I’ve been his best friend for years,” Iwaizumi tells him, slowly- Shouyou nods, although that hadn’t been particularly new information. “His smiles just seem… more real whenever you’re around.”

Shouyou’s heart melts a little at that and he can’t help but grin at Iwaizumi- the thought that he affected Oikawa even a fraction as much as Oikawa did for him, that his mere presence could uplift his spirits- if but for one brief moment, he feels invincible.

Then, the morning bell rings and Iwaizumi curses underneath his breath, offering him one last smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder before he speeds away at the speed of light, disappearing around the corner in mere seconds.

It’s only as Kunimi comes slinking through the hallway at his usual, unconcerned pace that Shouyou remembers that he is _also_ going to be late if he doesn’t hurry- and with that, he grabs Kunimi, who provides essentially no real resistance, and speedwalks so that they enter their classroom just as the second bell rings.

The rest of the day passes as comfortably as every other day has in the company of his friends, albeit with the very recent addition of his boyfriend popping up whenever he could- sneaking into his classroom for lunch and showing up just as the bell rings and the school day ends, slipping his hand in Shouyou’s, despite how he knows full well it means it takes Shouyou twice as long packing up all of his stuff. 

And then, the practice match against Karasuno has finally arrived.

It doesn’t feel _real_ until Shouyou spots Yamaguchi and Tsukishima (and the rest of the Karasuno volleyball team) as Oikawa has their team run through warm-ups, and suddenly, the volleyball in his hands feels a lot heavier than it actually is. Kunimi casts him a long look, elbowing Kindaichi.

“Bathroom!” Shouyou blurts out, volleyball dropping with a heavy thud on the floor, but before Oikawa can say anything or his friends can stop him, his stomach twists and with that, he dashes past the Karasuno volleyball team and into the hallway.

It’s just as Shouyou breathes in the cool air of the hallway, slumping over as he walks towards the bathroom, that he stiffens just as quickly.

“You.”

There’s only ever been _one_ person to call him that.

After a brief moment of wondering if Kageyama will take offense to him sprinting away, Shouyou turns around, almost feeling his bones creak as he does so.

“Kageyama!” Shouyou greets, and hopes he doesn’t sound as intimidated as he feels- clad in a pitch black jersey and pants, Kageyama’s scowl looks twice as harsh.

“You went to Aoba Johsai,” Kageyama states, voice surprisingly clear of malice, given how hard he’s scowling at him. 

Shouyou spends a brief moment wondering if Kageyama is going to murder him before Kageyama takes one, menacing step forwards- and he can’t help but stumble back.

“My,” a cold voice cuts through, and instant relief floods through Shouyou’s veins. “The king _is_ going back to his old ways.”

Then, the relief sours as Kageyama’s eyes flash briefly and he whips around to face Tsukishima, snarling. “I told you, I’m _not_ -”

“Really?” Tsukishima asks, a hint of smugness to his tone. “That’s not what it looks like to me- intimidating a rival, lashing out a teammate. What a _remarkable_ display of sportsmanship.”

For a second, Shouyou doesn’t dare breathe- with how tightly Kageyama’s fists are clenched and how much he’s shaking, if he even draws a speck of attention to himself-

“Why,” Tsukishima continues when Kageyama says nothing in response, only standing there and trembling with so much rage that Shouyou _knows_ he should stop Tsukishima before his friend gets hurt. 

Before he can muster up a single word, Tsukishima’s eyes set ablaze as he glances at Kageyama and _smirks_. “If this is how pathetically you’re acting, I doubt you’ll ever be able to play as a setter for the entire-”

“Enough!” Shouyou shouts, grimacing as Tsukishima finally turns to face him. “We have a practice match in fifteen minutes, Tsukishima, and you can’t- you can’t just-” Shouyou blows out a puff of air and gestures wildly.

“Oh, I think I see how it is,” Tsukishima sneers instead, but despite however much of his practiced apathy and loathing he pours into his voice, it doesn’t mask his eyes, cold- and _hurt_. “If you’d like to play nice with the king, then go ahead.”

Shouyou’s heart sinks- which, added to his churning stomach, is a deadly combination. “Tsukishima, you _know_ that’s not what I meant-”

Then, with not even a single glance, Tsukishima strides past him with a composed grace and then turns the corner.

Just as Shouyou turns and takes a step, fully intent on following his friend, Kageyama’s awkward cough draws his attention.

When he glances back, he sees a Kageyama intently staring at the ground. Unlike the Kageyama of their match together back in middle school, there’s surprisingly less arrogance- maybe going to Karasuno had been good for him. 

“Thanks,” Kageyama chokes out and before Shouyou can give him a single thumbs up or wave it off, he zooms off back into the gym.

Strange. But more important was-

“Shimashima?” Shouyou calls out as he turns the corner and sees a very pissed off Tsukishima, one still seething with anger but so pent-up that he could explode at any moment.

“If it isn’t the king’s loyal servant,” Tsukishima spits out instead, his malice much less subtle than it usually was. 

“I’m not his servant,” Shouyou immediately refutes, stifling the urge to let any of his own irritation leak through his voice. “You were just being a dick, and I didn’t want you to get hurt- Besides, I don’t think Kageyama even knows my name.”

Tsukishima scoffs, giving him a harsh glare. “Right. Which is why you took his side over-” Tsukishima cuts himself off, but by then, it’s far too late.

Shouyou blinks at that, can’t help but soften when he realizes what the prickly Tsukishima is _actually_ upset about. 

“ _You’re_ my friend,” Shouyou tells him and the slight flush to Tsukishima’s ears reveals he was spot on. “Not Kageyama.”

Tsukishima shifts but he doesn’t turn to leave, his glare simmering before its flames finally sputter out like dying embers. “I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he denies, none of his previous fury lingering in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shouyou waves off with a slight smile. “I think we _both_ know you’re excited to binge the Jurassic Park movies together at your place later with Yamaguchi, Shimashima.”

Huffing, Tsukishima turns away, but before he does that, he hesitates, and then, softly and carefully, ruffles Shouyou’s hair before turning and stepping away. 

Shouyou screams for a moment on the inside- Tsukishima, the endlessly prickly, salty, tsundere Tsukishima, _actually_ physically displayed affection towards him- It’s so ridiculously sweet that Shouyou’s heart melts a little.

“Aw, Shimashima, you _do_ care!” Shouyou croons, a sappy smile no doubt on his face, and cackles when Tsukishima chases him all the way back to the gym, his glasses glinting as he cracks his knuckles but a small smile still on his lips.

As they enter the gym, the doors slam shut behind them and both of their teams give them strange looks- out of breath and smiling (although Shouyou realizes that Tsukishima is quick to train his face into a neutral one when he glances over).

The weight of their gazes nearly topples Shouyou, enough to make him edge further back towards the doors- two bathroom breaks right after one another weren’t _that_ suspicious, right?

Tsukishima shoves his shoulder and he blinks, glancing up to see a carefully neutral Tsukishima. “Good luck,” Tsukishima says, voice perfectly level, and ignores the looks of utter shock on his teammates’ faces as he walks off towards Yamaguchi, who waves when he sees Shouyou looking over. 

Waving back, Shouyou stifles a laugh- Tsukishima’s team must’ve thought he’d only had _one_ friend, then. 

Then, a heavy weight leans on Shouyou and a hand wraps around his waist, and Shouyou blinks up to see Oikawa squinting at Tsukishima. 

“Tooru?” Shouyou softly asks, quiet enough so that no one else could hear.

“That glasses boy…” Oikawa says, with a suspicious glare at Tsukishima, who doesn’t bother looking back. “Not a fan.”

Shouyou blinks before he realizes his boyfriend is- “You’re jealous,” Shouyou realizes and when Oikawa only pouts and draws him closer, Shouyou laughs a little to himself. “Tooru, you _know_ you’re the only one I’m interested in. Shimashima is just my friend!”

Oikawa starts at that. “ _That’s_ Shimashima?”

Nodding, Shouyou pulls away as he picks up a volleyball from the cart and takes a deep breath, feeling its weight in his hand and his feet rooted in the ground. When Iwaizumi smiles at him and gives him a thumbs up, Shouyou thinks he smiles back- he isn't quite sure if he manages. 

This is his first game against an actual enemy- against the king, no less. A king who seems to have mellowed, if only a little, but it’s still the same king who had crushed him underneath his foot in middle school.

Shouyou can do this. He _has_ to do this, can’t disappoint his friends, his teammates, his boyfriend-

“He doesn’t _look_ like a Shimashima is all,” Oikawa grumbles, but when he glances at Shouyou, he must see some of Shouyou’s pre-game jitters on his face because he softens, gently taking the volleyball from Shouyou’s hands, placing it on the floor, and tugging him into a hug.

“It’ll be fine, Shou-chan,” Oikawa murmurs, voice as soothing as ever, before stepping away, albeit with the smallest of pouts at having to do so. “Just do as we’ve done in every practice match- just like tryouts!”

“For once, Oikawa is right,” Iwaizumi says, ignoring the offended noise Oikawa makes. “Volleyball is a team sport- the team with the stronger six is the one that wins.”

Shouyou nods, even as he isn’t sure he entirely understands.

“What Iwa-chan is trying to say is that you can depend on us as your team,” Oikawa tells him, reaching for Shouyou’s hand and squeezing. “All _you_ have to do is your best.”

“Okay,” Shouyou says, taking a deep breath and steadying himself. “Okay. I can do that.”

Oikawa brightens, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the top of Shouyou’s head, steadying and reassuring. “Of course you can, Shou-chan!”

After that, picking up the volleyball and running through the rest of warm-ups isn’t quite as anxiety-inducing. Iwaizumi reminds him a few times of his tips but rather than any embarrassment, the only thing to be found is the insistent drive to do even better next time.

All Shouyou has to do is to do his best- he can do that, he _has_ done that.

Then, within a matter of minutes, the practice match begins.

Luckily for Shouyou and his teammates, Oikawa is up to serve first- even from the other side of the net, Shouyou can see how seriously the Karasuno team is taking this serve. Yamaguchi particularly looks queasy and Shouyou just gives him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘good luck’ and Yamaguchi smiles back, looking at least a _little_ calmer.

Oikawa’s steps are loud and certain and Shouyou resists the urge to look back but smiles a little to himself anyways as he thinks about how beautiful his boyfriend looks when doing his incredible killer serve. 

Then, with a loud _bam_ , Shouyou blinks- a service ace!

He turns back to beam at his incredible boyfriend, who only grins right back before settling on a cool smirk as he taunts Karasuno.

No, Shouyou realizes with a terrible feeling of dread, he’s targeting Tsukishima.

“Oh, so it _was_ as Shou-chan had mentioned,” Oikawa cheerily says, “you two _are_ first years!” 

Shouyou shrugs and mouths an apology at his friends- luckily, neither of them seem to misinterpret Oikawa’s words and think he’d told Oikawa out of ill will. Tsukishima doesn’t seem too bothered, as per usual, and Yamaguchi smiles and waves it off.

Oikawa is a _lot_ more cunning than Shouyou had initially thought- it would be a little unsettling if he didn’t know all the other parts to Oikawa, didn’t have as many memories of Oikawa’s fond smile and the tender way he looked at him, as if he was his everything.

Shouyou glances back and Oikawa catches his gaze with a slight smirk and then, as if to show off, when Shouyou focuses back in front of him, the volleyball soars right over his head and then-

Poor Yamaguchi. 

Still, another service ace! Even if Shouyou can’t help but feel at least a little bad at how his boyfriend mercilessly targeted the two inexperienced first years, he still turns around and with a proud smile and thumbs up, shouts, “Nice!”

Oikawa puffs up his chest at that, only to deflate, if only a little, when Iwaizumi bonks him on the head with a glare.

After that, Shouyou realizes Tsukishima and Yamaguchi have been moved back a fair bit, the Karasuno captain must be widening his defense range. Shouyou reflexively glances towards Iwaizumi before tearing his gaze away- this was in the middle of a match, they didn’t have time for head pats. Not that Shouyou wanted any.

Then, with a third, scarily pinpointed serve, Oikawa targets the space directly between Tsukishima and the Karasuno captain.

Impressive. _Super_ impressive.

Shouyou beams as he looks back, but Iwaizumi’s glare at Oikawa stops him from saying anything.

“Dumbass! Save at least _some_ of your energy for later, Trashykawa!”

Oikawa pouts, but when he catches Shouyou peering at him with a worried expression, just gives a thumbs up and the smallest hint of a soft smile on his lips.

Then, Oikawa’s service ace streak comes to an end- although, luckily, he doesn’t seem to be pushing himself quite as hard as he had been before.

The first match goes well- for everyone else on the Aoba Johsai volleyball team, that is. 

Kunimi and Kindaichi both spike and block with an amount of ease that Shouyou envies, and the two wall-like third years Hanamaki and Matsukawa show a startling amount of skill and experience. 

Although their libero, Watari, gets his fair share of receives in, it’s clear that Iwaizumi receives just as many and spikes twice the amount. Most of Iwaizumi’s spikes are unfairly powerful, too, which Shouyou can only pout at, even as he can feel himself getting more fired up- he’s going to have a _lot_ to live up to when he takes up Iwaizumi’s mantle and becomes Seijou’s ace.

Oikawa, though, is a work of art. Every ball he sets lands right where each spiker would want it to be- a feat only done through practicing long and hard for hours, even after everyone besides Iwaizumi and Shouyou had left. 

Even though Aoba Johsai is a powerhouse volleyball team, Karasuno packs a surprisingly hard punch. Tsukishima’s blocks are efficient (and incredibly annoying), even if he lacks effort, the captain’s impressive receives reminding Shouyou of Iwaizumi’s, and their number 5 is not only intimidating but has the power to back it up.

Despite it all, Oikawa never falters. 

Setting his feet slightly apart and centering himself, Shouyou narrows his eyes and, carefully, watches Kageyama as he begins to serve, just as Iwaizumi had instructed long ago- Kageyama’s eyes dart towards the spot right between Shouyou and Kunimi.

Then, with ten times the power and speed that Kageyama had in middle school, the ball whizzes past Shouyou before he can even blink, eerily similar to Oikawa’s, although not _quite_ as refined or fast.

“Oops,” Kunimi blandly states.

Kindaichi pats his back, reassuring him as he glares daggers at Kageyama. “Don’t mind, it’s just the _king_.”

“Again!” Shouyou shouts, ignoring how Kunimi and Kindaichi both stare at him with visible confusion. 

Kageyama, terrifyingly enough, grins at him, but the memory of him thanking Shouyou and then yeeting away from embarrassment was too fresh in his mind to be _too_ intimidated.

With that, Shouyou grins back- he’d managed to receive a few of Oikawa’s serves before, although it had taken several hours of pure practice. It was difficult, but not impossible, which Iwaizumi had proved when he received Oikawa’s serve back during the volleyball tryouts. All it took was an insane amount of practice and moving to receive _just_ as the serve was hit. And since Kageyama’s serve wasn’t nearly as fast as Oikawa’s-

The ball flies up as he receives it, sticking his tongue out at Kageyama- whose face turns from shocked to grudgingly impressed. 

“Nice receive!” Iwaizumi calls out, pride clear in his voice, and Shouyou preens a little, before Oikawa, with a grin, sets the ball- right towards Shouyou.

A little obvious, maybe, but that was the point. 

Shouyou slams his hand on the ball as he leaps, grinning down at the stunned Karasuno volleyball members in front of him at the top of his peak, having had to put all his power into his jump in order to be able to hit Oikawa’s set. They had never seen him spike a perfectly set ball, after all.

Then, with a resounding _bam_ , the ball strikes the Karasuno’s side of the court in one of the many holes in their defense.

“Nice kill!” Kindaichi shouts, grinning and clapping him on the back while Kunimi just nods and echoes Kindaichi’s statement with the hint of a smile.

Shouyou basks in the feeling for a moment- he’s never felt quite as free than when he spiked a ball- before glancing over at Oikawa, who gives him a fond, gratifying smile.

After that, the Karasuno volleyball team starts to watch him much more carefully, although they had never exactly let him go unwatched either- it was just that their attention seemed to have been much more focused on Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

Unfortunately for them and _very_ fortunately for the Aoba Johsai team, Shouyou works just as perfectly as a decoy as Oikawa had thought he would. 

There’s a rush of shame when he leaps and hits thin air but the awe overtakes it quickly when he sees Iwaizumi spike the ball with as much impressive force as always. An ace among aces.

Kunimi elbows him and startles him out of his thoughts, Shouyou letting out a small ‘oof’. “Don’t overthink so much,” Kunimi says, narrowing his eyes. “A point is a point.”

Kindaichi nods vigorously besides Kunimi. “A point from a block is the same as a point from a spike!”

Shouyou blinks, takes a moment to think even as Yamaguchi begins to serve- maybe his friends were right.  
Then, Yamaguchi hits the serve- a jump floater! 

Unfortunately, as cool as it looks as it spins... it lands outside the court.

With a wince, Shouyou shouts a quick, “Don’t mind!” and only looks the other way with an innocent smile when Kunimi’s deadpan stare bores into him and Kindaichi splutters in confusion.

Then, it’s Shouyou’s turn to serve and he breathes in and then out as carefully as he can manage. He can do this- it’s set point, after all.

Shouyou has been forced to endure serve practice more than once, and, not only that, the best setter in the prefecture and their powerhouse team’s ace had personally trained him and given him tips ( _and_ made him slave away for hours upon hours).

Shouyou takes one last deep breath, glances at Oikawa, and smiles. 

Just as the whistle blows, Shouyou throws the ball in the air and serves, the ball soaring over the net (which makes him sigh in relief- knowing he wouldn’t fail and actually not failing were two _entirely_ different things).

The ball is, annoyingly, received cleanly by the Karasuno captain, but then as Kageyama sets for Tsukishima, the strangest thing happens.

Tsukishima’s fingertips barely connect with the ball as he spikes it, which, from the irritation on his face, was clearly not planned out beforehand. 

As if only to serve to irritate Tsukishima even further, his lackluster spike was slammed down by Kindaichi’s block.

Then, just like that, the set has been won.

Despite the adrenaline pumping in his veins and the excitement soaring in his heart, Shouyou glances to see Tsukishima and Kageyama glaring at each other and his heart can’t help but sink.

Lining up, the only thing Shouyou can focus on is his friend and Kageyama and wonder just what had happened between the two of them that had soured their relationship so deeply.

Knowing Tsukishima, he was probably overly harsh, and Kageyama, with his complete lack of people-skills, probably only made it worse. 

Tsukishima had mentioned that Kageyama might not be able to play as setter for the rest of the year if he kept acting as brashly- for a moment, Shouyou wonders if that would really be so bad. Tsukishima had never implied Kageyama couldn’t play as some other position, after all. Then, the idea of never being able to spike hits him and the casual wondering is shattered- it's terrifying and much too real to even consider. If setting was even a fraction as important to Kageyama as spiking was to Shouyou-

“Hinata!” Kindaichi’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and Shouyou glances towards the Karasuno team before he can stop his morbid curiosity. Luckily, while Kageyama and Tsukishima are still shooting each other nasty looks, it hasn’t come to blows. “The second set is starting!”

Shouyou nods, walking over to his starting position and glaring at his legs when they tremble. He could do this, he literally _did_ do this- if he just did a set, then he could finish one now too! 

“It’s just a practice match,” Kunimi reminds him. “All you have to do is practice.”

Just a practice match- Shouyou scrunches up his face at the wording as the whistle blows and the second set begins. Still, Kunimi wasn’t _wrong_ , even if he was far more relaxed than Shouyou was.

Surprisingly enough, the second set goes just as smoothly.

While Karasuno has an alarming amount of potential, Kageyama still hasn’t seemed to actually connect with his team as a setter or communicate well with them, a fact only exacerbated by how he and Tsukishima seem to utterly despise each other. 

Underutilizing Tsukishima, Kageyama makes one too many sets to their number 5- which only leads to even more blocks, until finally, he tries a rushed setter dump that even _Shouyou_ can spot, which is immediately stopped by a smug Oikawa.

“Sloppy, Tobio-chan! I thought a genius would’ve put up more of a fight,” Oikawa sing-songs, even as Kageyama glares at him- it’s almost kind of impressive how many people Kageyama is on bad terms with.

“Bakakawa, don’t taunt the opposing team!” Iwaizumi reprimands, dragging him away and apologetically smiling at Kageyama.

As the set goes on, Karasuno only gets worse- to the point where another player, the number 2 and thus the vice captain, is substituted in for one of the players who Shouyou doesn’t recognize.

Karasuno takes a time-out right afterwards, though, and then Kageyama is muttering something under his breath, to which Tsukishima viciously replies with something inaudible but undoubtedly mocking and calls him _king_ so loudly even Shouyou can hear, and then, before the pit in his stomach even has time to form, Kageyama lunges- only held back by a few of his teammates before he rips himself away and stalks off back onto the court.

“He really is the same as middle school, huh,” Kunimi observes, cool detachment in his gaze- as if he couldn’t even be bothered to think about Kageyama.

Kindaichi nods, huffing out a laugh that makes Shouyou’s stomach turn at how darkly pleased he sounds. “Still the same old king.”

This is… good! It’s good!

Shouyou’s friends have seemed to have moved on from their past with Kageyama, at least somewhat- this was utterly and completely good! There wasn’t any way he could see this as anything less than good.

It’s just that looking at Kageyama, Shouyou can only see a king without a single soldier behind him, and maybe it _was_ of his own making, deserted from his own tyranny, but the sight still reminds him a little too much of all the practice he’d done back in middle school, utterly alone and wishing for a true team to be able to play with.

The match continues after that, and the substitute turns out to be another setter, who then takes over almost all of the plays, and manages to score his fair share of points. 

While Kageyama is still also technically playing as setter, it’s more than clear that the other setter is handling the team- and with a lot more grace. After each toss, he asks the spiker how his toss was and even adjusted it, if only slightly, for the next one. Oddly enough, it reminded Shouyou of his boyfriend, although he’s sure no one can even come close to outdoing Oikawa as a setter.

Oikawa quickly catches onto his textbook tactics, though- the same ones Iwaizumi had drilled into Shouyou’s head, even when he insisted he wouldn’t need them.

Then, after what felt like only minutes, Karasuno suffers a crushing defeat.

Karasuno was certainly not the clipped crows as rumored, but despite that, they still seemed to be struggling to fly- the inordinately talented Kageyama’s inability to communicate having dragged them down.

The worst part, Shouyou thinks, is that Kageyama _is_ trying- it’s just that no one else can tell from how he lashes out and isolates himself further and further each time. Even Shouyou didn’t know if that brief flash of someone much more awkward and much less menacing back in the hallway really meant anything, but more than anything, he _wanted_ to believe it did.

The bitter taste in his mouth means Shouyou knows he won’t be able to celebrate with his teammates as is, so he waves Kunimi and Kindaichi off and smiles at Oikawa, as he follows after Kageyama, who had previously disappeared into the hallway as soon as the teams had shook hands at the end.

“Kageyama?” Shouyou says, walking down the hallway before he turns the corner, and, in almost exactly the same spot as Tsukishima had been earlier, is Kageyama brooding away.

“You,” Kageyama says back, shortly. “Is there something you want?”

“My name,” Shouyou stresses, “is Hinata Shouyou.”

Kageyama nods stonily, then continues glaring at the ground.

Despite how much his stomach screams at him to run back to his team’s safety, Shouyou ignores it and tries to smile at Kageyama- although the attempt goes utterly ignored.

“So,” Shouyou continues when it becomes clear Kageyama won’t, handing him his phone even when Kageyama only looks confused. “You give me your phone number and we can talk and meet up and practice.” That alone sounds kind of strange so Shouyou adds on, “And be friends!” He’s not _entirely_ sure trying to make friends with the king would be a good idea- but if no one on Kageyama’s team was clicking with him and if the spat he had with Tsukishima only grew worse, there’s not really an option in his mind to just turn away.

Shouyou thinks, in the privacy of his own mind, of all the people who had cheered him on further, who had helped him even when they didn’t need to- back in middle school, his friends who were kind enough to participate in a volleyball match that they didn’t know a single rule to, and even now in high school, everywhere he turned, there were his friends, his teammates, his boyfriend, always supporting him, even when he wasn’t sure he deserved any of it.

Kageyama blinks at him when he says friends, stares with the most confused look Shouyou has ever seen on anyone’s face _ever_. “Friends,” he says, slowly.

Then again, if Kageyama didn’t want to be friends, there wasn’t exactly anything he could do about that.

“If you want?” Shouyou asks, letting out a small, nervous laugh. “Volleyball friends! Friends from volleyball!”

Kageyama gives him one last, questioning look before he seems to give in, typing his phone number into Shouyou’s contacts before giving it back. “Acquaintances,” he clarifies, and then, as if trying to make a joke, “Volleyball acquaintances.”

Shouyou grins, gives him a thumbs up- besides the exterior, Kageyama isn’t even half as harsh as Tsukishima was, only twice as socially awkward.

Then, as Shouyou heads back into the gym a few moments after Kageyama does, he can _finally_ let himself relax and enjoy the victory he and his team had won.

He glances at Oikawa, who brightens upon seeing him, striding over and sweeping him into a hug. 

“Congratulations on your first win, Shou-chan!” Oikawa chirps, pleased and content, pressing a gentle kiss onto the top of Shouyou’s head, as light and fluttering as a butterfly’s wings.

Shouyou beams back at his boyfriend before pulling away and waving over Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, excited at the prospect of a Jurassic Park movie marathon with his Karasuno friends, when he blinks, glances away, and his smile crumbles.

When the day had begun, Shouyou had been excited. 

(Shouyou’s phone rings, once, and then twice.)

As the rest of the day went well, despite a few bumps, he had been ecstatic, even. Walking with his boyfriend to school, laughing with his friends and teammates, playing and _winning_ a volleyball match, even befriending Kageyama, albeit in a pretty strange fashion- everything had been incredible, everything a younger, middle school Shouyou would’ve never believed he would ever be lucky enough to get.

(And then, Shouyou’s mother calls.)

And then, everything is ruined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was okay despite how it was a fair bit longer than most updates!  
> I've also realized that in my fic, there's a Lot of people talking...  
> Thank you for reading!


	8. A Fact as Simple as Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning that this chapter gets a little dark... The details are provided in the end notes if needed!

Shouyou is still staring at his phone when it rings for the second time- the idea of talking to his mother when they haven’t exchanged anything beyond sentences in weeks sends a jolt of panic down his spine, even as he reminds himself where he is, pressing into Oikawa’s side as much as he can to try and calm the rising panic.

There was absolutely no way she was calling because she’d seen his texts about today’s volleyball match, because she’d wanted to know if he’d done well- but even so, was it so bad to hope?

“My mother called,” Shouyou blurts out, and a part of him hates how Oikawa’s smile drops, but a greater part of him is too relieved as Oikawa wraps a steadying arm around his shoulder.

Oikawa peers at him, looking uncertain and worried. “You haven’t ever really mentioned her- do you know what she wants?” 

Shouyou winces and shrugs, knowing that given how he took every opportunity to blabber on about everyone and everything he loved, the fact that he had never actually mentioned his mother to Oikawa was probably not the best sign.

“She… works a lot so she usually isn’t home,” Shouyou explains, even as Yamaguchi and Tsukishima arrive and they both look a little confused at the topic. “We haven’t actually talked in weeks.”

Oikawa blinks, gives him a strange look. “What?”

“I’m not a bad son or anything!” He rushes, edging towards the gym doors as Oikawa lets his arm fall away without a single complaint, still staring even as his heart sinks at that- Oikawa _never_ passes up the chance for physical affection, pouts whenever they separate. “I probably like volleyball a bit too much and don’t study enough but that’s it!”

Yamaguchi coughs, nudges Shouyou’s shoulder with an apologetic smile. “I… don’t think that’s what he’s worried about.”

Tsukishima is only staring at Shouyou. The same stare he’d given Shouyou when he’d heard his parents were divorced- something not quite pity but not understanding either.

“Shou-chan,” Oikawa starts, slow and careful even as he grips Shouyou’s hand in his own, as if he worries that if he speaks too brashly, Shouyou would crumble into pieces beneath his touch. “Are you alone most days at home?”

“I usually go home to nothing but silence!” Shouyou chirps, with a little too much enthusiasm for it to be genuine, and frowns when neither his friends nor his boyfriend laugh.

Sure, it was lonely- to go from being surrounded by friends and teammates and a boyfriend at school and then go home to the silence- but that was just how it was. There was no point in being sad about something that would never change, no point in weeping over something as simple as gravity itself.

Shouyou is short, his mother doesn’t love him, and Shouyou loves volleyball twice as hard and twice as fiercely in spite of the two previous facts.

“I’m going to take this call?” 

Before Oikawa can say anything, Shouyou slips through the gym doors, away from the strange sympathy that burns at his skin. 

Oikawa lets him leave, but when Shouyou glances back, his heart sinks as he only sees Oikawa’s back as he walks away.

Shouyou doesn’t even know what he did to mess things up- but then again, he supposes that was the same case with his mother. 

He was never enough, not for anyone.

With a heavy sigh, the gym doors slam shut behind him and Shouyou walks a few steps into the hallway before finally calling his mother back, pressing the button before he can overthink himself to death.

“Mom?” Shouyou asks into the silence, clicking on speaker so he can better hear her, and clears his throat when no response but a single, wavering breath comes. “I had a volleyball game today! It was incredible, you should’ve seen Oikawa, my- uh, my friend, he was so amazing! And Kunimi and Kindaichi were all _wham_ and _pow_ but then Iwaizumi-senpai was all _bam_! And I even got to go _fwoosh_ -”

It takes him far too long to realize his mother isn’t listening.

The shame burns a pit in his stomach, makes every single thing he had been so excited about just a moment ago seem worthless and stupid.

“You’re supposed to be home, Shouyou,” his mother says, with the same, disinterested yet polite tone she dons when speaking to a client. “I left a note on the table.”

The sound of his given name makes his heart sink even as Shouyou coughs as he tries to stall for time, wracking his memory for any sign of a note-

But there’s nothing.

The only thing he can remember about his home is the silence.

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou apologizes reflexively, even as he thinks privately that if she had bothered to ever actually talk to him in person, this entire issue would’ve been resolved easily. “I’ve been really busy-”

“With volleyball.”

She doesn’t sound very impressed- it’s nothing new but despite that, each time his mother withholds her support, a trophy glinting just out of reach, he has to choke down the shame creeping up his throat.

Still, Shouyou scrambles for something that will make her cool tone warm, anything to get even the slightest hint of approval from her unflinching voice. 

“And studying!” 

It isn’t _entirely_ untrue, Shouyou had managed to wrangle Tsukishima into helping him study earlier that week with the aid of a sympathetic Yamaguchi, albeit with the promise of strawberry shortcake and a future Jurassic Park movie marathon.

Which reminds him-

“Does it have to be today?” Shouyou blurts out, waving to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima as they exit the gym, his stomach churning as they wait for him within earshot. “I made plans with my friends and I was really looking forward to-”

“No. This is _important_ ,” she interrupts- as if his friends aren’t important to Shouyou, as if they aren’t the only reason he can push himself every morning, as if they aren’t the ones who pick him up when he falls down, as if their support isn’t the only reason he can stand outside a gym after just having won his very first game on his incredible team. 

“My friends _are_ important,” Shouyou says, quietly, and his hand trembles even as he holds it out in front of him, that feeling of absolute freedom as he spiked a ball so close and yet so far away.

“Sure,” his mother agrees easily. And yet, the tone of disinterest tells Shouyou everything- she would never really argue against anything he said, she didn’t care of his opinion enough to even try. “I’ll be picking you up from the entrance in five minutes.”

It’s then, as Shouyou finally allows him to relax, flashing a reassuring smile at his friends, that his mother continues and his smile freezes on his face.

“Oh, and Shouyou? Don’t try and pretend like _you_ would ever study,” his mother scoffs, the first sign of actual emotion in her voice- and it came from her absolute and complete disappointment in her failure of a son. “I think we’ve both seen your grades enough to know you wouldn’t.”

The worst part, Shouyou thinks, is that Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are _right_ there, can hear every single word, can pinpoint the exact second his smile falls away- or it could be that the worst part is that he actually _did_ study, so what she’s saying is both unfair _and_ untrue.

Or maybe, the worst part is that his own mother thinks he’s stupid.

“And,” his mother cuts in, just as _I love you_ and _I hope you get here safely_ crumble to ashes upon his tongue from her words, as cruel and biting as the harshest of winds. “I think we both know the only thing ever on your mind is _volleyball_.”

And for once, his love for volleyball doesn’t feel like such a good thing.

Then, just like that, his mother hangs up and the conversation is truly over and finished, even as Shouyou stands there and wonders how all it took was precisely one minute and eighteen seconds for his first and only victory in volleyball to feel so utterly worthless, for _him_ to feel- 

“Oh my,” Tsukishima draws out, even as Yamaguchi casts him a worried glance. “And I suppose that _lovely_ woman was your mother?”

If anyone else had said that, Shouyou would laugh, a little nervously, and agree, even as he wondered how exactly they came to that impression after all they heard was that disastrous phone call.

But it isn’t anyone else- it’s Tsukishima. 

Tsukishima, who verbally rips anyone who rubs him the wrong way to shreds, who kept himself surrounded by walls so high in a labyrinth so intricate and elaborate and decorated with poisoned barbs that few ever found their way inside or even bothered to try, whose first instinct is to lash out instead of to listen.

“She’s just stressed,” Shouyou explains, the same tired, old excuse he’s given dozens of times to worried friends- the one even he’s exhausted of from years and years of resentment lurking underneath his skin.

Yamaguchi’s gaze flits back and forth from between the two of them but then, it’s obvious where he stands on the matter as Tsukishima continues and he says not a single word.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can tell,” Tsukishima says, painfully casual. “She must be, given how terrible a mother she seems to be.”

It’s only when Shouyou blinks that he realizes _oh_ , he’s actually crying, and that’s why everything else has faded and his world has become only himself once again- 

Just Shouyou, all alone, and his dream of volleyball crushed underneath his distant mother’s foot. It doesn’t matter if Shouyou begs for her approval or stumbles over apologies, she’ll never look back, she’ll never love him- she’ll never even think of it.

A fact as simple as gravity, it weighs him down until he can’t even breathe, suffocating under the burden of knowing he’ll never be good enough for the only person in the world who was supposed to love him- and at that point, maybe it was that there was something inherently wrong in Shouyou himself, if even his own mother couldn’t bear to love him, couldn’t bear to even try.

Then, with one step, and then another, Shouyou runs.

Away from Tsukishima, even as his face twists uncomfortably at his tears (rather than frigid malice on his face, there lies anger, hot and burning instead), away from Yamaguchi, even as he shouts after him to come back (too kind, far kinder than anything Shouyou ever deserved).

As he trips around the corner, stumbling before barely getting back onto his feet, the sound of their raised voices in an argument fades away (and his stomach twists at that, at the thought that he’d made his own friends argue amongst themselves when they’d always seemed so comfortable with each other) and the faint sound of the gym door slamming open ringing in his ears.

At the entrance, Shouyou stills.

Despite knowing he has to, the steps to his mother’s car weigh him down far more than anything else could. With each step, he treads closer to his mother, to the part of his life where Shouyou might as well be a ghost, a stranger to his own mother- where he only wishes he could fade away.

“Shouyou!” A voice calls out, terrible in its familiarity, and despite the aching of his heart and how desperately he wants, _needs_ to fall into his boyfriend’s arms and forget every cruel word his mother said, Shouyou knows how the world works, knows that from the moment his mother called, the path before him was set in stone- regardless of worried friends or a caring boyfriend, a child must obey their parents.

And so he does.

Shouyou hesitates, glances back at Oikawa as he arrives, his eyes wide and desperate and begging him to stay, and does his best to smile at his boyfriend through the tears.

And then, he slips into the car, and volleyball is no more.

“You’re late,” his mother says, not even sparing him a single look to see if he’d buckled in his seatbelt before she steps on the peddle and the car shoots off at an alarmingly high speed.

Shouyou tears his gaze away from where his boyfriend had previously been, glances at the clock to try and forget how Oikawa had looked heartbroken as he left, like he’d brutally dumped him rather than just get picked up by his mother. “By two minutes.”

His mother doesn’t bother to respond, just lets out the tiniest, apathetic hum as she continues to drive far faster than what’s comfortable.

Then, his phone vibrates in his hand and with great reluctance, he turns it over and breathes a silent sigh of relief.

It isn’t anyone who’d been at the Karasuno practice match- it’s just Kenma who he plays co-op games with from time to time (and who, oddly enough, like all the other important people in his life, plays volleyball). 

Well. Just Kenma _and_ Kuroo, given how his two friends always seem to be attached at the hip. After having connected on a multiplayer game with Kenma and playing on co-op games for months and then meeting in person, it was at Shouyou’s very second sleepover at Kenma’s place that Kuroo had been lurking around- and since then, he had been at every sleepover since to mercilessly beat Shouyou at Mario Kart and play volleyball with him whenever Kenma wanted a break from their loud, energetic antics.

Even thinking about happier memories is terrible now. 

At first, his heart lifts and soars, sings praises of his friends but then, as each detail of the car sinks in around him, it only weeps instead, thinking of the friendships he’d ruined and the friendships he didn’t deserve. 

**Kenma:** We’re still on for Cuphead sometime this weekend, right? I need an excuse to not play volleyball.

With numb fingers, he texts a simple reply back.

_Yeah._

**Kenma:** you didn’t use any exclamation marks. or talk about volleyball.

An entire minute passes, Shouyou staring outside the window as buildings whiz by before he can even get a proper glance at them, everything melting into one great, gloomy sludge.

 **Kenma:** are you okay?

_Just stuff with my mom. I’ll be normal soon._

When everything came back into focus around him, when each beat of his heart stopped feeling like it was wading through sludge, then he could text Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, apologize for running away and making such a mess of things.

Shouyou glances at his fists clenched in his lap, stomach churning as he thinks about just how terribly his conversation with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi went. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if they called off the Jurassic Park movie marathon, called off being _friends_.

 **Kenma:** Yo, Shou, Kuroo here! Your mom is a bitch.

The text, unfortunately, makes Shouyou muffle a snicker underneath his breath- neither of his friends from Tokyo had ever liked his mother after he had asked her to pick him up from a sleepover and she had forgotten. Not once, not twice, but an incredibly dispiriting three times. 

Still, his stomach twists that he hadn’t immediately been offended on his mother’s behalf. What did it say about Shouyou as a person- as a son?

 **Kenma:** but seriously, shouyou, are you okay? i’m always here if you need anything

Then, just as Shouyou thinks he might actually tell Kenma (and Kuroo, since he was probably still hovering over Kenma’s shoulder), the car pulls to a close and he has no choice other than to put his phone away and the conversation on hold, sparing the gray skies above a single glance.

His mother leaves the car without a single word and he follows.

There isn’t any reason this meeting has to go poorly- but maybe that’s the exact reason that it does. 

It begins, as many bad things do, badly.

His mother raises her voice, says she’s been working as much as she can to appeal her ex-husband having custody of Natsu, more emotion in her voice than there’d been the entire phone call that they’d had. 

Hope, desperate in its fervor, makes her voice break, makes her plead and beg strangers for aid. Hope makes her weak. 

As much as Shouyou knows he should focus, the words wash over his skin and the second he tries to grab onto them, they slip away from his grasp. 

Everything that’s being said he already knows, having lived with the simple facts for weeks and weeks already. His mother loves Natsu fiercely, wants her instead- she can’t have her, only stuck with a consolation prize.

The lawyers have sharp eyes and sharper tongues. They cast him sympathetic looks he doesn’t understand, even as they burn into his skin. One of the lawyers asks, in a deceptively casual voice, if she’s been home enough to take care of the child that she actually has custody of.

That sounds bad. That sounds like something he should protest, so he does. 

Just as he opens his mouth, unsure of what words will spill from his lips, his mother grips his wrist, so tight that he stares as it trembles from her force. It doesn’t even hurt.

Then, as soon as they came, they leave. His mother nods tightly, and he watches as the hope dies on her face and can’t feel a single thing or bring himself to comfort her. 

His mother slips into the car and he follows. 

His wrist aches.

He only sees that his fingers are trembling when he picks up his phone, sees texts from Oikawa and his now ex-friends from Karasuno.

He turns his phone face-down.

The strangest thing happens when he follows his mother back into the apartment where they both happen to live in, rain turning from the lightest drizzle to a thundering storm, a torrent of rain and wind- his mother snaps.

She collapses, crashing into the ground and brokenly sobbing, wails that she’s lost her baby- she pounds on the floor with her fists, screams and screeches, and the whole time, the only thought on his mind was that his wrist still aches, that his body is still sore from the volleyball match earlier.

It’s only when Shouyou blinks that he snaps back into his reality upon seeing the bloodied skin on his mother’s knuckles, that dread sets deep in his bones. 

His mother looks utterly heartbroken, maniacal in her despair as her howling continues- something about it makes his heart twinge, even as he isn’t sure what it is, something about it makes him realize that if he simply left her to scream for however long she decided, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Shouyou forces himself a step closer, reaches a hand out on her shoulder as it trembles, plastering on what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

Shouyou’s mother casts him a glance and he freezes in his steps- there is no other word for it but hateful, despising, _loathing_ \- she stands, shaking and sways upon her feet but her glare remains fixed on her face, disgusted hatred growing sharper and sharper as each second passes and suddenly, he can’t remember a time she was without it.

Then, before he can blink, before he can stumble away, there’s a clap of thunder resounding throughout the room and- 

A sharp pain twinges in his cheek.

He blinks, stumbles away at last- by the time he clutches his cheek, and thinks _she hit me, she hit me, she hit me_ , the words echoing louder and louder until they’re all he can hear- by the time he comes to his senses, his mother is gone.

His wrist aches, a phantom pain, but his cheek throbs, all too real and present. 

Shouyou’s mother is gone, having disappeared further into the apartment without a single apology, and so he leaves.

It’s only after Shouyou walks down the winding staircase and walks the familiar path to the train station and settles into his seat on his train, that he blinks and can finally think again.

Then, too numb to panic, he blinks down at his phone, shakes it until the screen flickers on and with trembling fingers, sends a text.

_I need to come over. I’m sorry._

The rain, furiously slamming and pounding against the windows as the wind howls, has soaked into his volleyball uniform so thoroughly that he isn’t sure it’ll ever dry- regardless, it makes for terrible clothes to wear and Shouyou reaches with trembling hands for the hoodie he stole from Kunimi what seems like ages ago, only to realize two things.

One, Shouyou is still in his _volleyball uniform_. And two, he doesn’t even have his backpack, which he’d left behind in his haste at the gym, so he neither has his regular clothes nor a hoodie to protect him from the seemingly endless shivers his freezing body is being wracked by.

When he stares at his phone, it doesn’t turn on again.

Shouyou lets out a small sigh, slumps down in his seat, and settles in for the long train ride. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Shouyou's mother is generally terrible and also hits him... She's pretty awful.  
> I've been planning this chapter's events for quite some time. I hope it's okay...  
> Updates might take a bit longer from here on out due to school, unfortunately- I'll do my best, though!  
> Thank you for reading!


	9. Tokyo Daze

When Shouyou blinks, he’s a lot warmer than he was.

There’s a soft couch underneath him, a huge cat plushie on his lap, and a heavy blanket draped over his shoulders. Shouyou stares at it all for a second before, unsurprisingly, he shivers and then realizes immediately after that he is still in his soaked volleyball uniform, _dripping_ onto his friend’s couch-

Stumbling up, only to see no one around, Shouyou heaves a silent sigh and then traces familiar steps through the house until he reaches the entrance.

He shouldn’t bother his friends. 

Shouyou pushes the door open, and dreading the train ride back, takes one step back into the unforgiving rain before he’s dragged back inside by the back of his shirt. 

Shouyou blinks, glances up to see an unamused Kuroo.

The door closes.

Kuroo gives a long, heavy sigh before he holds out his hand expectantly. “C’mon, Shou. We have a surprise in the kitchen!” 

Kuroo is trying to bribe him, a little too obviously- but in his current state, all Shouyou can do is stare. There could be his mother in the kitchen, begging for his forgiveness, and he doesn’t think he could feel a single thing. 

Still, Kuroo is worried.

Shouyou takes his hand, letting Kuroo lead him to the kitchen instead of leaving- he doesn’t think he really wants to leave anyways.

There, in the kitchen, is Kenma, sitting cross-legged on the counter only to drop straight down and head immediately towards Shouyou when he spots him. 

“Shouyou,” Kenma breathes, so soft and uncertain and worried that it only takes a split second for him to unravel apart at the seams, every repressed emotion bursting open as he sinks onto the kitchen floor and cries, each unwilling sob torn from his throat.

“It’s stupid,” he tells them, voice crackling with despair and hopes broken and years of resentment and wishing seeping out with every word. “I- I hate that I don’t even- I don’t even hate her. She _hit_ me and-”

Kuroo and Kenma both go curiously stiff at his last words, sharing an obvious look between the two of them, before Kenma kneels before him and tugs him into a hug, slinking his arms around Shouyou before Kuroo, awkwardly kneeling down despite being a whopping 6’2, does the same. 

“ _I_ was stupid-” Shouyou glares at the floor, the fiercest glare he possibly can, heaves a shuddering breath and forces his tears down. “It was obvious.”

“You aren’t stupid,” Kenma tells him, as if it is a fact, with so much certainty to his voice that all he can do is laugh, leaning into Kuroo’s shoulder even as he blinks through the tears.

Kuroo’s arm tightens around him- when Shouyou glances up, it is to a face full of sorrow and pain, and then, when he glances at Kenma, his usually smoothed out features are marred by an angry frown and narrowed eyes.

“Why?” Shouyou asks, before he can think otherwise. “Why do you both care? All we’ve shared is a handful of sleepovers and dozens of conversations over text?” Then, a laugh bubbles out, cruel and dark and singed at the edges with hope finally burnt out. “My own mother doesn’t even-”

“She’s a bitch,” Kuroo cuts in, but unlike the somewhat joking tone Shouyou had imagined Kuroo saying it when he had texted it in earlier, he sounds furious and deathly serious. “And isn’t that what friendship is all about, dumbass?” 

“Friendship,” Kenma says, pulling back and tracing circles on the floor, “is just a collection of moments between people who choose to spend time and have fun together- and then, choose to make it more.”

Kuroo has a huge smirk on his face when he finishes- Kenma rolls his eyes and tacks on, “Or something. Just something an idiot mother hen told me that might be true.”

Shouyou frowns, stomach twisting as the memory of his last disastrous conversation with his Karasuno friends resurfaces. “What if you mess up? How can you still be friends then?”

Kuroo shrugs and leans back. “Guess you just have to apologize and do better next time!”

“And,” Shouyou continues, even when he wishes he could just leave it at that. “If they don’t want to?”

Kenma lets out a small sigh, reaches for his shoulder and squeezes with a small smile. “Then we’ll still be here.”

“Okay,” Shouyou says. “Okay.”

He thinks he can live with that.

It wouldn’t be ideal but- he’d ran like a coward, forced them to argue. If they didn’t want to be friends anymore, he would just have to never look at a slice of strawberry shortcake or set foot near Karasuno or look at a Jurassic Park movie or think about a jump floater serve or-

“I don’t-” Shouyou chokes out, despising how at the thought of losing his friends, his heart twists and aches. “I don’t want to.” 

Friendship, Shouyou decides, is a terrible thing. 

Also a wonderful one. 

But mainly terrible. 

Stupid Tsukishima with his stupid tsundere ways. Stupid Yamaguchi being too kind and nonjudgemental.

Stupid, stupid Shouyou for thinking he would ever not mess something up.

Just as Shouyou thinks he might actually start tearing up again at how he’d somehow managed to ruin everything, Kuroo pokes him a little too hard on his shoulder, before offering him a grin and a hand up.

Then, after waving off Kenma, who glances at a pot on the stove and then curses under his breath, leads Shouyou back the familiar, winding path to Kenma’s room.

Shouyou glances at Kuroo’s hand in his own and flushes a little. “You don’t have to hold my hand, Kuroo, I’m…” He gestures with his other hand, hopes it conveys what he doesn’t want to say.

“I know,” Kuroo tells him, a small smile blooming. “I want to.”

 _Oh_ , Shouyou thinks, and smiles back.

It isn’t anything like Oikawa’s hand in his- doesn’t inspire the same fluttering in his stomach or, like it did in the beginning, make him internally scream- but somehow, it feels just as right, just as safe and secure. 

Finally, once they’re inside Kenma’s room, Kuroo scrounges up a huge sweater and a pair of sweatpants, along with a brightly colored pair of obnoxious cat socks.

“You sure give a lot of cat gifts to Kenma,” Shouyou says, laughing when Kuroo just sighs and clucks his tongue at him. 

“The youth are so disrespectful these days…” Kuroo lectures sternly, stroking his chin in a gesture so ridiculous that Shouyou only laughs harder, feels himself come back to life, if only a little. 

Shouyou glances back at him just before he leaves the room to change, lingers at the door long enough for Kuroo to raise an eyebrow. “Do you think Kenma would mind if I wore his clothes?”

Kuroo stifles a laugh, disguising it poorly as a cough. “Shou, I think you could steal his PS4 and he would only ask if you were enjoying it.”

Shouyou grins even as he rolls his eyes. “I think Kenma would kill anyone who tried, Kuroo.”

Still, Kuroo’s jokes make him feel more at ease anyways- more like their friend and less like an intruder on foreign Tokyo land. 

“Besides,” Kuroo adds, staring at his volleyball uniform as it steadily drips on the floor with a strangely worried look. “You might catch a cold from how wet your clothes are. I’d run home and get you clothes if he didn’t share any.”

Shouyou nods, pretending that isn’t incredibly touching and making his heart turn to goo as it cooes over how sweet and helpful his friends are. 

“Thanks,” Shouyou says, and then, just as he leaves, “Kenma _was_ right when he said you were a mother hen,” and doesn’t bother holding back a laugh, free and pure, when he hears an offended noise from Kuroo.

When he returns to Kenma’s room in huge, warm clothes, he immediately puts his soaked volleyball uniform away in the corner in a conveniently placed plastic bag, before glancing on the bed to see-

“Hot chocolate!”

Kuroo smirks. “And marshmallows.” 

Then, he pats the space between him and Kenma, who must’ve arrived with the hot chocolate while Shouyou was wriggling into his clothes, and without a second thought, Shouyou dives right in, sandwiched between his two terrible, wonderful friends. Sipping steaming hot chocolate with the hugest marshmallows, Kuroo’s arm thrown around his shoulder as a comforting weight reminding him where he was, Shouyou thinks maybe friendship was terrible, but maybe how wonderful it was made up for it anyways.

Just as Shouyou settles in, lets himself relax and any last remnants of tension drain from his shoulders as he finishes off his hot chocolate and puts it on the nightstand, a phone vibrates- what seems like ten thousand notifications but all at once.

And Shouyou has a very bad feeling about whose phone it is.

Kenma gives him an appraising look before tossing the phone over- at 23%, Shouyou’s phone battery has seen better days, but it’s clearly enough for several texts to have flooded in. 

“Just tell them you’re okay and at a friend’s place,” Kuroo, ultimate beacon of shining hope and ray of infinite wisdom, suggests.

“Right,” Shouyou nods, unsure of where to begin.

“Start with your boyfriend,” Kenma says. 

Shouyou pouts as the two begin to play Mario Kart ( _without_ him, those absolute bastards-). He’d never even confirmed it to Kenma but of course he’d noticed anyways (and _no_ , he did _not_ ramble about how perfect Oikawa was while voice calling Kenma for a co-op game… several times). 

His stomach twists but he opens up Oikawa’s text messages first anyways- his boyfriend deserves that from him, if nothing else. 

**Oikawa:** Shouyou, I think we need to talk.

Then, before his heart even has time to sink-

 **Oikawa:** Most parents who.. spend a lot of time working.. still make the effort to talk to their kids? And they care about them?

 **Oikawa:** Not that your mother doesn’t-

 **Oikawa:** I’m sorry. That isn’t what I meant to say. I’m just really worried. You looked so... 

**Oikawa:** You mean so much to me. Stay safe, okay?

Shouyou sinks a little further into Kuroo, who only gives him a passing glance before giving him a reassuring smirk and tugs him closer, and tries his hardest to not cry. 

How did he get the best boyfriend in the world? 

One who worried about him even when there was nothing to worry about, who told him he meant so much to him, and never blamed him, not even when he ran, not even when he left him behind-

The relief makes his fingers tremble but he types out a reply anyways.

_I’m at Kenma’s place. I think I told you about him- he’s the gamer!!! Kuroo is also here!!!! I’m really sorry I left like that. But I'm better now!_

**Oikawa:** Shou-chan?? Did something else happen??? Are you okay?

_……… Maybe? I’ll tell you later, I promise. And I think.. I will be?_

Then, the much worse task of opening up his ex-friends’ text messages.

 **Shimashima:** I think your mother is deplorable from the little you’ve let slip and I think the way she treated you during that phone call is disgusting. She’s pathetic.

 **Shimashima:** I will try to be more careful with how I phrase my words to you in the future. Please do not cry ever again. You looked even more like an elementary schooler than you usually do.

 **Yamaguchi:** What Tsukki means is that seeing you cry really worried him. Also he’s sorry about being a dick. I’m really sorry that I didn’t say anything. You can talk about your mother on your own time.

Shouyou breathes in and realizes the commitment to not crying was probably the stupidest one he’d ever made- he was _definitely_ crying, stupid tears dripping off his cheeks and landing in his poor, poor hot chocolate. Maybe if he cried enough, it would taste salty, just like stupid, soft Tsukishima. 

He has the best boyfriend _and_ the best friends ever in the world. It was official.

They miraculously didn’t even blame Shouyou-

Although, that meant he would definitely have to address it.

_I made both of you argue and ran away. I overreacted and I’m really sorry…_

**Shimashima:** Idiot. 

**Yamaguchi:** Translation is that you have nothing to apologize for. Don’t worry about it, okay? Just have a good rest of your day and relax.

_Okay!!!!!! Goodbye!! I’m really glad we’re still friends!_

Exhausted of meaningful social interactions, Shouyou tosses his phone over to Kenma, who plugs it in to charge without even looking away from the screen just as he begins to pull in for first, the hint of a victorious smile peeking on his face.

Shouyou sighs, relishing in how stupidly safe he felt with Kuroo’s arm wrapped around him and Kenma right beside him as the two furiously game.

Then, right as Shouyou yawns and his eyes finally begin to drift shut, there’s a quiet, hissed, “Motherfucker! You used a blue shell-” and his eyes snap back open.

“Language around the child!” Kuroo sing-songs, cackling when Kenma shoots him a nasty death glare that makes even Shouyou shrink away slightly.

“Really?” Kenma says, and then with a practiced hand motion that means _Shouyou, duck_ , hurls a pillow at Kuroo just as Shouyou proceeds to duck as quickly as he can. “Because the only child I see here is _you_.”

His friends are, in the best way possible, _so_ dumb. 

But Shouyou wouldn’t trade the ones he has for the rest of the world.

When Shouyou yawns for the second time in a few minutes, Kuroo sighs. “Just go to sleep, Shou.”

Shouyou _maybe_ pouts. “But I don’t want tomorrow to come… I can’t stay here forever.”

Kenma actually seems to consider it for a moment, horrifyingly enough, before shrugging. “If you come to our school, we could play volleyball together?”

Shouyou can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the thought is, even if a small part of him thinks it would be great. “Aoba Johsai is fine!” Then, he perks up, blinking away the tiredness, “We should do a practice match!”

“You really like practice matches, huh, Shouyou,” Kenma mutters.

“Hey!” Shouyou immediately protests before shutting up when Kenma shoots him a deadpan stare. “I only arranged _one_! And that was… for my friends!”

Then, Shouyou yawns. Again. 

Kenma’s stare softens as he pats Shouyou’s head, “Goodnight, Shouyou.”

“I’m not tired,” Shouyou insists, pouting.

“Yeah, and I’m straight,” Kuroo snorts, sticking his tongue out when Shouyou mock glares at him before yawning one last time and letting his eyes finally close. “What, Shou? I thought we were both listing things that weren’t true.”

Then, when Shouyou next blinks, it’s to a room illuminated by the rays of the morning sun, warm on his face as he smiles, surrounded by his friends- Kuroo snoring away loudly and a PSP still curled in Kenma’s hand even as he slept.

Carefully extracting himself from the tangled mess of limbs, Shouyou places Kuroo’s arm, which had previously been wrapped around him, on the bed as he tumbles over the side of the bed as quietly as he can.

Shouyou should leave. 

He _should_ , he’s already bothered his friends so much just by showing up out of the blue during a thunderstorm and forcing them to take care of him.

But when he thinks of going back to where he lives (he couldn’t call it home, not anymore), it feels like a part of him is dying- choking and suffocating underneath the terrible knowledge his mother doesn’t love him, that the only moment she actually bothered to look at him, she didn’t see anything worth seeing, had struck him instead.

Even the thought of just seeing her makes his stomach twist and sends a jolt of terror up his spine but he shoves the fear down (the fear and the terror and the question of how he would ever look his mother in the eye again when he’d always be forced to wonder if she would hit him again)-

Shouyou takes a deep breath, one and then another. 

_Maybe,_ Shouyou thinks. _Maybe he can stay just a little longer._

Then, shuffling over to his phone to waste time until his friends finally wake up, he blinks at a new text.

 **Kunimi:** I have your stuff. Come over before breakfast on Monday so I can give it to you.

Ah, Kunimi. Always straight to the point- still, Shouyou knows his friend well enough at this point to know Kunimi, much like prickly Tsukishima, hides his worry underneath a facade. 

_Okay!!!! I’ll see you then!! Thanks!!_

“Oh? Someone’s Mr. Popular!” a smug voice croons just as Shouyou realizes the room was a little _too_ silent, the smugness familiar but still ever so irritating.

“It’s just my friend,” Shouyou explains, glancing at Kenma as he stretches awake and immediately continues gaming on his PSP- it was almost impressive how he fell asleep gaming, woke up, then kept gaming. Also a little scary. “I, uh, left the practice match a little… dramatically?”

Dramatic was one word for it anyways- a loud argument with his friends, the gym doors slamming open just as he turned the corner as he fled. 

Definitely not his finest hour.

Just like that, Kuroo turns to his mother hen mode, his smirk dropping as his gaze turns serious and grows worried, slinging an arm around him when Shouyou drops back onto the bed. “Are you staying the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Kenma answers immediately. “He is.”

“Kenma-” Kuroo starts before sighing and waving it off. “That’s cool with you, right, Shou?”

Shouyou grins, the relief like an instant dopamine hit. His friends would be okay with him staying and he wouldn’t have to return home just yet- a win-win situation!

“Yeah!” and it might be a little more like a shout than he means it to be but when there’s a weekend full of Mario Kart and hot chocolate and his friends laid out in front of him, he can’t really care.

Given how Kenma smiles and Kuroo grins back, he thinks they don’t either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Kuroo wasn't originally meant to be in this chapter/fic but he somehow?? just forced his way in??  
> Thank you for reading!


	10. Return to Miyagi

The train ride back to Miyagi has never been incredibly long- usually, Shouyou just sleeps the whole time- but this particular Monday morning, it’s much shorter than it has any right to be. It feels as though he was just in Tokyo, being sent off by a far too energetic Kuroo and a barely awake Kenma at the train station with hugs and head pats and promises to meet up soon. 

But, unfortunately, Shouyou’s Tokyo days are over- for now, anyways.

With the sun barely having risen just as Shouyou steps off the train, he sets off towards Kunimi’s house, hoping he can make it in time before Kunimi’s mother serves breakfast. If he doesn’t, he won’t have anything to eat for the rest of the day- not until he returns home. 

_If_ he returns home, Shouyou corrects, knocking on Kunimi’s door. Even now, after two days of building up to the idea, the thought of facing his mother is nothing less than an impossible task.

The door swings open.

Kunimi stares for a moment, pauses to take him in- the sweater that’s a little too big to be his own, the bright cat socks when Shouyou has only ever worn plain ones, and the small, cat print tote bag that Kenma shoved off onto him for his volleyball uniform and phone.

“I didn’t realize you liked cats so much,” Kunimi says instead with a small smirk, turning around and heading inside after Shouyou pouts.

“They’re from my friends,” Shouyou explains, locking the door behind him and following Kunimi all the way to the dining table, loaded with breakfast, before they both sit, in an achingly domestic scene. “I had a sleepover! In Tokyo!”

Kunimi pauses. “I don’t suppose they play volleyball?”

Shouyou blinks- he knew Kunimi was smart but at this point, he might as well have been psychic. “Yes..?”

“So you’re friends with Nekoma _and_ Karasuno volleyball members…” Kunimi sighs, spearing a sausage and idly gesturing with it. “I heard you even befriended the king.”

Shouyou sinks into his seat, grabs a bowl of rice and a conveniently placed egg and cracks it upon his rice very carefully to buy him a few seconds of panicked thinking- mostly, _oh god, dumbass, did not think that through, what if Kindaichi and Kunimi get mad and hate him and-_ “Maybe?” He blurts out.

Kunimi shrugs, speaking through the sausage in his mouth. “It’s not like I care.”

The relief causes Shouyou to wilt a little, his shoulders slumping before Kunimi’s next words cause them to stiffen all over again.

“Oh, but,” Kunimi says, giving him a look far more intense and serious than anyone should look during a simple breakfast. “If he ever goes too far…” he trails off, a little too ominously for Shouyou to just nod and take it at face value.

“What?” Shouyou laughs but it’s pure jittery nerves, tilting his head to hopefully convey how utterly confused he is. “What does that mean?”

If Kageyama ever went too far, Shouyou’d probably just get annoyed and tell him off- knowing how he rambles at a thousand miles per minute to his friends and Oikawa, he’d likely complain about Kageyama and pout so much that they’d hopefully tell him that _yes_ , Kageyama was being very stupid and Shouyou was very right, and he could put it past him.

Kunimi shrugs, and then, terrifyingly, smiles wide.

“I,” Kunimi draws out, pointing his fork directly at Shouyou, all with that alarmingly wide, ominous smile, “just don’t think any of your friends or worse, your boyfriend, would be very pleased to hear if the king hurt you.”

Nevermind. 

That thinly veiled threat (the one who issued it being incredibly casual as he continued to eat breakfast and play a game on his phone) has now made it very clear that unless Kageyama physically beats him up to a pulp, Shouyou should never talk to Kunimi, Kindaichi, or, worst of all, Oikawa about Kageyama or risk his rival-turned-volleyball-acquaintance never practicing or even talking with him again.

“Your stuff is in my room, by the way,” Kunimi says, moving past the still incredibly touchy topic of Kageyama just as Shouyou finishes his bowl of tamago kake gohan (which was _almost_ delicious enough for him to completely forget his impending doom). 

Shouyou nods, blinking when Kunimi gives an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re not planning on going to school like that, right?” Kunimi points out, lips quirked in a tiny smile when Shouyou bolts up, realizing that he should probably hurry if he wants to get to school on time.

Finding his way to Kunimi’s room is a bit of trial and error, given how he’s been to Kunimi’s home a grand total of once before a week or so ago, but he eventually finds it- although only after entering not one, but _two_ bathrooms.

There, his backpack and clothes sit on top of Kunimi’s desk, and after a quick trip to the bathroom to change into his uniform, he returns back to the dining table and blinks upon seeing everything was already cleared.

The sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen, Kunimi calls out a goodbye to his mother which Shouyou hesitantly echoes, before the two head off to school.

The path is unfamiliar and Kunimi is too busy furiously tapping at his phone (all with the most blank expression on his face) to actually talk to Shouyou, but luckily, once they arrive at their classroom, Kindaichi is already there, tapping his fingers impatiently against his desk and brightening when he sees Shouyou.

“Good morning,” Kindaichi greets, not put off at all when Kunimi walks right past him to his desk without a single word, still deathly focused on his game. 

“Morning!” Shouyou chirps, pretending he doesn’t notice Kindaichi looking at him carefully, as if to see if there were any physical signs of his argument with his Karasuno friends from Friday. 

Honestly, that argument was the last of his worries at the moment- he has exactly one school day to manage how to convince himself into doing something both absolutely terrifying and unappealing.

Class begins.

Reason number one Shouyou should return home- he kind of has to, eventually. Even if he manages to convince Kunimi or Kindaichi into a last-minute sleepover today, he can’t bother them for anything more than that. 

It’s an eventuality that he goes home- an eventuality that makes his hands shake and his heartrate ratchet up, even with his mother miles and miles away from him, but an eventuality nonetheless.

The question isn’t if he goes home- it’s when.

Reason number one Shouyou should _not_ return home- he can probably stave off sleep in a nearby park and sleep during lunch and after practice. It couldn’t be all that bad, even if he would be alone and defenseless and tiny and an obvious target-

But the most important reason he shouldn’t go home- and the only one that really matters- is his mother. 

Unless he’s been blessed with a sudden rush of luck, she won’t have moved out of the apartment (as she struck him, she hadn’t said a single thing, had stared down her son and the child she’d raised and saw him falling apart from her own hand and left without a single word).

The reasonable option must be to return home. 

His mother _probably_ won’t hit him again- she’d just been incredibly shocked and upset at the bad news she’d received and Shouyou had probably made it difficult too, since he’d taken until they got to her apartment to finally try and comfort her.

Then again, before that day, Shouyou had never thought she would hit him, even if she didn’t love him- he’d thought a parent wouldn’t strike a child, thought it only made sense-

But now, with shame burning in his throat, Shouyou knows. 

A mother _would_ hit her son- and honestly, he should’ve known sooner, given how his mother had always zoned out when he rambled about volleyball a little too long despite how she would listen to Natsu talk about anything and everything for hours on end without a single complaint. 

Shouyou’s mother doesn’t love him- but what does that say about him? How could his friends, his boyfriend, bother to hang around him and listen to him talk as much as he did, when his own mother had never bothered to even try?

“Shou-chan!” 

And with that, Shouyou shoves all his thoughts to the back of his mind, grinning as his boyfriend skips into the room, lunch having just begun. “Oikawa-senpai!” He greets as formally as he can, not quite managing to hold back a laugh at Oikawa’s pout and mock glare which falls away just as quickly at Shouyou’s laugh.

Then, all of Shouyou’s thoughts come rushing back as Oikawa takes his hand and leads him out of the classroom and towards a deserted hallway in the very back of the school, far away from anywhere he’d ever been. 

Right. 

He’d promised he would tell Oikawa what had happened on Friday.

Oikawa glances at him as they finally come to a stop, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he tells him, soft and kind.

“But we came all the way here!” Shouyou shifts and takes a breath to try to ignore his nerves (the last time when he’d told someone, he had been in the middle of breaking down, but now-). 

“Hm,” Oikawa hums, leans against the wall with a smirk. “I can think of a few other uses for our time here if you’d rather not talk.”

Shouyou blinks. “Cuddling?” he asks, and the thought _is_ tempting but then, he shakes his head, steeling himself. 

He can do this. 

Oikawa deserves to know if something this huge (it _felt_ huge, at least) happened to his boyfriend.

“She hit me,” Shouyou blurts out, holding his breath as Oikawa’s hand tightens around his and the smirk drops and leaves behind a scarily blank expression.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa says, words stilted and with a harsh cadence Shouyou had never heard from him before. “Did you just say your mother hit you?”

Shouyou nods slowly, and then, just as his gaze flits towards Oikawa’s hand, which has been steadily tightening for a few seconds now, Oikawa crushes him in a tight hug.

Pulling back a little, Shouyou cranes his head upwards to look at his unfairly tall boyfriend, whose face is drawn in anger and a hatred so burning it makes him shrink away. “Tooru?” he asks, in a voice far smaller than he means it to be, and then, luckily, the loathing recedes and the echoes of his mother upon his boyfriend’s face have vanished.

“I can’t believe she would do that to you,” Oikawa says, shock bleeding through his words, but the underlying hatred is clear in his voice. “How could anyone look at you and think you’re anything less than perfect?”

Shouyou laughs, a little sadly, and pulls away completely, although Oikawa refuses to let go of his hands. 

“She’s never loved me,” he explains, although speaking the words he’s known as truth for years out loud is nothing less than torture, each word feeling as though he’d wrenched it out of the deepest depths of his mind. “I shouldn’t have approached her when she was that upset. It was my fault-”

“No,” Oikawa cuts in, seething, with a grip so hard that Shouyou’s hands tremble, even though they don’t hurt- yet. “It isn’t, Shouyou.”

Shouyou stares, feels the panic mounting and rising in his throat even as the words stay trapped within- _please let go_ , he thinks and despite knowing his boyfriend can’t read his mind, his heart thunders and his eyes sting when Oikawa doesn’t. 

“Oikawa,” he chokes out in a small voice. “Please.”

Then, as abrupt as a clap of thunder, Oikawa staggers back- he looks horrified, hand clutched over his mouth and an apology on his lips- he apologizes, over and over, but lost within a daze, Shouyou can only stare at his trembling hands as they ache.

His heart beats, each thud feeling slower than last, and it’s only long after Oikawa leaves, still spilling apology after apology, as the bell rings that he finally can let himself breathe.

Shouyou stumbles towards his right- before remembering that since Oikawa had led him here through confusing twists and turns, he didn’t know how to get back to his classroom.

This was a disaster, he decides, as he finally finds his way back to his classroom just as a class period ends. He hurt his boyfriend and missed a class. On top of making his mother hit him.

The bell rings, the last class of the day begins.

One class is all that stands between Shouyou and his mother.

It only takes Kunimi one look at him for his lips to twist into a grimace, asking their teacher if he could take Shouyou to the nurse- the teacher glances at Shouyou and she must see something very clearly wrong because she nods without a single word.

Kunimi leaves the classroom, so Shouyou follows.

Then, he stops. 

Kunimi is outside 3-6- but before Shouyou can muster up the words to tell Kunimi that this was a _very_ bad idea and that Oikawa was surely mad at him for freaking out over something as small as a tight grip and would break up with him right there in front of everyone-

Before he can say anything, Oikawa is already outside and Kunimi is already gone with a quick pat on the shoulder and thumbs up.

Oikawa looks nervous, Shouyou realizes, dread creeping up his spine, and tries to steel himself for the words that he knows are about to come and collapse the world he’s grown to love.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa apologizes, so earnest despite how he also didn’t even know the true depths of the action he was apologizing for.

Shouyou breathes in once and then out, reaching for Oikawa’s hand despite how wary Oikawa is at the action, stiffening with an unsure look in his eyes- the way he holds Shouyou’s hand is so gentle and tender, as if Shouyou actually meant anything.

“My mom held onto my wrist a little too tight that day,” Shouyou tells him, averting his gaze towards their hands so that he won’t see Oikawa’s expression darken like he knows it will. “And now-”

Despite it all, Oikawa’s grip never tightens. 

Fortunately, Oikawa understands- he doesn’t have to stumble over mismatched words in an attempt to sew together his disjointed memory of the day his mother did the unthinkable.

Oikawa carefully reaches out and cups Shouyou’s cheek in his palm with a touch as gentle as the breeze curling out the window. 

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says, sad but certain.

Shouyou shrugs, leaning further into Oikawa’s hand, warm and steady right where his mother’s palm had struck him. “I mean, if my own mom thinks I’m trash, then maybe I am.”

At that, Oikawa stills, and his face once again goes completely blank before thankfully, it recedes and a small frown tugs at his lips as his hand drops. 

“You’re incredible, Shouyou,” and when Shouyou doesn’t say anything, Oikawa blazes forward, an aching love burning behind his eyes, so bright and sure it leaves him breathless. “You inspire me to work so much harder at every volleyball practice. Hearing you laugh and seeing you smile and having you next to me makes any bad day a good one instead.”

“Just by existing,” he tells him, gently brushing his fingers against Shouyou’s cheek and wipes away a tear he hadn’t even realized fell, “you make my life ten times better than it used to be.”

At that, Shouyou throws himself into his boyfriend’s arms and thinks _I love you, I love you, I love you_ even though the words themselves stay unspoken, the fear clawing at his throat even as he tries (if his own mother didn’t love him, why would anyone else?).

“I think you’re incredible too, Tooru,” Shouyou says. 

When the tears spring, he doesn’t hold them back and lets each one fall even as he beams at his boyfriend. 

Tooru huffs out a small laugh but he gives him a smile so blinding and true in return that Shouyou’s cheeks ache from how wide he’s smiling back, feeling so, _so_ lucky to be so utterly and completely loved.

“Come on,” Tooru murmurs, and leads Shouyou back to his classroom, hands intertwined. “I’ll see you tomorrow- I have to study with my friends later… unfortunately.”

Shouyou can’t help but pout, only slightly gratified by how dejected Tooru looks as well- it’s only a single day but even the idea of a single minute apart from Tooru makes him feel as though he’s wilting. “I want to see you forever.”

“I do too,” Tooru tells him, giving him a small, soft smile meant only for him.

“Tomorrow, then?” Shouyou asks, and lets himself melt into Tooru’s arms in one last hug before they part.

 _Maybe_ , he thinks, _Tooru was right._

Maybe Shouyou wasn’t worthless, maybe he actually _was_ worth something- maybe his mother was wrong.

Tooru lets his hand linger when he ruffles Shouyou’s hair. “And every day after that, as long as you’ll have me,” he tells him, as if it was truth itself, and then, with one last soft smile and a wave, leaves.

Entering his class and making his way to his seat, Shouyou sighs and grins at Kunimi when he looks over, giving him a thumbs up. 

Then, the teacher glances at him, gaze so harsh it makes his breath catch in his throat and his heart thunder- 

“You took long, Hinata,” the teacher says, and something about the tone of her voice makes him freeze- uncaring and distant. “Try not to take so long next time.”

The teacher isn’t his mother, though, and doesn’t strike him even as he waits, frozen in place- she moves on and continues teaching, despite how the relief flooding through his veins makes Shouyou bury his head in his arms as they tremble.

The rest of class passes, excruciatingly slow as the terror fades, bit by bit, until finally, the day ends.

“Kunimi,” Shouyou blurts out before he can back out. “Can I stay at your place today?”

Kunimi blinks slowly, glancing at Kindaichi, who shrugs. “Sure.”

“I need to-” 

Shouyou stops. 

Does he actually need to tell them?

Shouyou had no doubt that he doesn’t technically have to- Kunimi was his friend, and would definitely let him stay over tonight, even if Shouyou didn’t reveal the true reason. Kindaichi wouldn’t push either, despite how the curiosity is already clear in his eyes.

It’s the fact that he doesn’t have to tell them that he should.

“I want to talk to you two about something,” Shouyou says instead.

The three set off without another word towards Kunimi’s house- the familiarity of the action reminds Shouyou of the first time he’d gone to his friend’s place weeks ago and causes a smile to rise on his face, the nostalgia unbidden but welcome. 

Kindaichi settles on the chair by Kunimi’s desk while Kunimi leans against the wall with narrowed eyes, Shouyou dropping onto Kunimi’s bed as he tries to drum up the nerve to tell his friends.

“My mother never loved me,” Shouyou begins, looking away from his friends’ sympathy. If his mother had never hit him, he’d probably never have told anyone a single thing about his mother. Even now, it’s only the fact that she hit him that rings too loudly in his mind, echoing louder and louder until-

“On Friday,” he says, and although the words are easier to say each time, they still burn his throat as he speaks them, “my mother hit me.”

For a moment, silence.

And Shouyou stares at his hands, clenched into fists on his laps. He doesn’t want to see hatred on his friends’ faces, distorting them into the shadows of his mother’s- doesn’t want his mother to taint anything more than she already has.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kunimi says, deathly quiet, the fury building with each word. “You’re staying here,” he decides, and Shouyou nods immediately, glad he didn’t have to ask- that Kunimi had known instantly and felt the same.

A hand clumsily settles on his shoulder- Shouyou blinks and glances up to see Kindaichi standing before him. Face twisted in sorrow, Kindaichi tells him, “I’m so sorry,” even though he has nothing to apologize for.

“It’s okay!” Shouyou chirps, and then, when Kindaichi looks even more disheartened and the fury in Kunimi’s eyes flares, he realizes that was probably not what he was supposed to say. “I mean, it’s _not_ but I have some amazing friends and an incredible boyfriend supporting me, so, it’s a win-win!” Then, because he doesn’t think his mother hitting him is particularly a win, “Win-lose?”

“She's the worst,” Kunimi spits out instead, and paces back and forth in the room with sharp, angry turns. “She’s a fucking _monster_ -”

The word _monster_ makes his heart sink.

Shouyou’s mother wasn’t a monster, couldn’t be- she had friends and loves her daughter and laughs and smiles around them. If anyone was a monster, it was the one who even a mother could never love-

If anyone was a monster, it was him.

“Kunimi-” Kindaichi starts, but even as Shouyou hopes beyond hope that Kindaichi will disagree with Kunimi, he doesn’t have anything to counter with. He never does. “It’s his mother,” Kindaichi settles on. “You shouldn’t talk badly of her in front of Hinata.”

Kunimi turns right then, facing Kindaichi and looking absolutely pissed, with a near feral look in his eyes. “She hit him, Yuutarou- she fucking hit him- he’s a child, _her_ child, he doesn’t deserve-“

Shouyou deflates with every word, tries his best to sink into Kunimi’s bed until there’s nothing left of him.

 _Monster_ , he thinks, and it feels like poison upon his tongue.

Kunimi's gaze catches on his and then, the anger recedes, not forgotten but not the focus either. “I'm sorry,” Kunimi says instead, with all the fury having bled out, and Shouyou’s stomach does a nervous little somersault because Kunimi has _never_ apologized for saying the truth.

Shouyou laughs instead, pretends like the floor isn’t blurring beneath him. “It’s okay,” he tells him, even though he doesn’t know if it is. “I just…” he trails off.

Kindaichi coughs, clearly awkward, but “Do you want to talk about it?” is said so sincerely that his awkwardness is the last thing on Shouyou's mind.

“I don’t know,” he starts instead but shakes his head and then pushes forward, like he always does- like he always has to. “She hurt me. And- And I remember sitting there and her grip growing tighter and tighter- and maybe if it was just once, I could pretend it never happened but when we got home-” Shouyou’s breath hitches and tears drip down his cheeks, Kindaichi’s arm around him as a reassuring weight and Kunimi’s hand on his own as his two friends sit besides him, a silent promise.

“When we got home,” he continues, each word scraping against his throat as he speaks. “She was so heartbroken from learning she couldn’t get custody of her daughter and I tried to help, I did- but then she hit me and now, I keep getting so scared at the stupidest things that would’ve never scared me before and- and now, nothing is the same.” 

Shouyou finally collapses, stumbling off the bed and onto his knees on the hard, wooden floor and a sob escapes before he can stop it. And then, even through his tears, even through the weight of his grief, he can feel Kindaichi and Kunimi, and finally lets himself sob within their arms- he doesn’t force any of it down or downplay it and that, more than anything, feels like he’s finally healing. 

“It’s not fair,” he tells them, quietly.

“I know,” Kindaichi says, soft and aching and full of sympathy that he only wishes his mother could have ever given him. Kunimi hums a small melody under his breath and rubs circles in his back, and when Shouyou glances at him, he gives him a small smile, his fury nowhere to be found, pushed back in favor of his support.

And when sleep finally drags Shouyou’s eyes shut, it’s not the fear from his mother’s tight grasp and backhand that haunts him but the aching gratitude from the support of his friends and boyfriend and the feeling of absolute safety from being held by his friends, knowing no one can hurt him as long as his friends are there- and knowing that he was loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	11. Eventualities

“I don’t know, that’s all,” Shouyou says for what feels like the thousandth time- Kunimi’s disapproving stare turns even more harsh at the words, making his breath catch in his throat before he reminds himself where he was. “I don’t want to bother you or your family any more than I already have.”

Despite his words, Shouyou doesn’t split apart from Kunimi when their paths should part- stays walking beside him even as Kindaichi waves and bids them goodbye after the long volleyball practice they’d had this Tuesday. 

“It would only be for a few weeks,” Kunimi tells him persistently, as he had been the entire day. “My parents really wouldn’t mind.”

Shouyou shrugs despite the bitter taste in his mouth at Kunimi’s words.

Accepting a few weeks of domestic bliss only to have to go back to his mother and their empty apartment (and the underlying terror forever lurking underneath his skin)- it feels almost cruel of his friend to dangle it in front of him when he’ll snatch it away in just a few weeks’ time.

“I don’t know,” Shouyou dutifully echoes and shrinks away from the frustration growing in Kunimi’s gaze as they near his house.

Kunimi frowns, turning his gaze away as he glares. 

“I won’t let you go back to her,” he says. “I can’t.”

Something in Kunimi’s tone makes Shouyou pause in his steps- it isn’t anger, like he’d come to expect, nor is it sadness or even sympathy.

 _No_ , Shouyou realizes. 

It’s fear.

“I’ll stay,” Shouyou blurts out and holds back a grimace as Kunimi glances at him, shock clear on his face before it melts away and the slightest hints of relief lay there instead- (when his own fear leaves him suffocating underneath the weight of his terror, an iron grasp clenching his heart so tight it felt as if it could burst, how could he condemn his friend to anything even remotely similar?).

“Okay,” Kunimi says, and his voice trembles. His hands shake as he unlocks the door and steps inside his home. “Good.”

The instant relief from alleviating his friend’s fear disappears as quickly as it came, though, and then, the only thought on his mind is that he wonders if his mother has even noticed he was gone (and worse, it’s the knowledge that she would never call his school or the parents of his friends to know if he was okay- the knowledge that on most days, he was the furthest thing from his mother’s mind).

“Hinata!” A familiar voice calls out in the middle of a yawn- entering as carefully as he can, Shouyou makes sure to copy all of Kunimi’s movements exactly (two steps further inside, remove shoes, place on shoe rack, enter-) before he blinks and remembers someone had said his name. 

“Hello!” He shouts back, recoiling a little into himself when his volume is louder than he intended. “I’m Hinata!”

Then, he weeps a little on the inside- sometimes his friends joke he only has one brain cell, but going off of Kunimi’s deadpan stare and his own inner judgement, he thinks that he often doesn’t have any at all.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Kunimi’s mother says instead of pointing out his obvious blunder, sitting at the dining table with a tired smile on her face. “Curry is on the pot on the stove if you want dinner.”

The thought of homemade curry is genuinely thrilling- Shouyou has been living off of the most bare essentials for the last few weeks (mostly plain rice or spaghetti with a pound of parmesan cheese dumped on top) and it hasn’t exactly been enjoyable.

“Thanks,” Kunimi states, and pats his mother on the back- in an instant, all of her energy seems to return and she jumps up and sweeps Kunimi into a huge hug.

Even as Kunimi fake gags, there’s a small smile on his face and he doesn’t push away his mother- worse, his mother echoes that same smile, bursting with affection, and all Shouyou can do is stare and stare, even as something painfully twinges within his heart.

Then, terrifyingly enough, Kunimi’s mother glances at him when she lets go of her son and brightens even further and takes a single step forward.

And that’s all it takes.

Shouyou stumbles back one step and then another and another until his back hits the wall and there’s nowhere left to go. 

_Dumbass_ , he thinks to himself, clenching his hands into fists so the slight pain from his fingernails’ indents sharpens the world around him- Kunimi’s mother would never hurt him, she was kind and made excellent food and even now, was pulling back even as her eyes burn with worry for a child she’d only met once before.

“Sorry,” Shouyou apologizes, glancing at Kunimi, whose normally apathetic expression is now twisted with concern. He tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a wheeze. “That was stupid.” 

“No,” Kunimi instantly disagrees. “It’s fine. No sudden movements, Mom.”

Rather than dismiss her son, Kunimi’s mother nods instead, as if that made complete sense- as if what her son said actually mattered to her. 

And then, unthinkably, “I’m sorry, Hinata.”

The apology burns but Shouyou accepts it anyways.

“So,” Kunimi says. “Dad isn’t going to be home for dinner?”

Kunimi’s mother hesitates but even that brief pause reveals it all- Kunimi’s eyes flash, and without another word, he stalks away.

Shouyou edges towards the direction Kunimi had gone off in, already feeling a little too on-edge for his liking, but then, a soft sound catches his attention and he looks back.

Kunimi’s mother is crying.

Shouyou stumbles forward before he can think otherwise (he would never stop trying to help people, not if they burned him a thousand times over) and reaches out.

Kunimi’s mother glances at him before mustering an exhausted smile. “Thank you,” she says, as if he did anything worthy of thanks.

“It’s fine!” Shouyou chirps and tries to smile despite how every second he spends in her presence, his mind screams louder at him to run away. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” she says, and somehow, it doesn’t even seem like a lie. She smiles at him and gestures towards where her son had stormed off. “Kunimi should be in the backyard.”

Shouyou nods. “You’ll be okay?”

And this time, when Kunimi’s mother lays a hand on his shoulder, so slow and careful that he could’ve easily moved away or asked her to stop, it doesn’t send a jolt of terror up his spine but makes him smile instead. It’s warm and steadying and everything he knows his mother would never be.

“Yeah,” Kunimi’s mother says instead, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “I think I will.”

Shouyou slips away as he grins back, following after Kunimi and finally arriving in the backyard.

It’s unsurprisingly large, stretching out wide enough for a volleyball net to be hung up in the middle and a huge tree at the very back, its roots where Kunimi was settled in.

“Kunimi?” Shouyou calls out, and when Kunimi doesn’t tell him to leave, takes uncertain steps forward until he reaches his friend. “Is everything okay?”

Kunimi shrugs, the motion jerky. “I’m fine.”

The obvious lie makes him frown but he waves the frustration away, sitting down next to Kunimi. 

“It’s okay if you’re not fine,” Shouyou says. Then, because his stomach is twisting into knots, he forces himself to ask, “Your dad isn’t… bad, right?”

Kunimi blinks before he sighs. “No. He works a lot but it’s only so me and my mom can live a comfortable life. He does his best to come home when he can and he’s never raised a hand against me, even when we’ve had disagreements.”

“Oh,” and the overwhelming relief strikes lightning in his veins as he slumps against the tree. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Kunimi agrees wryly before heaving yet another sigh. “It sucks you have to even ask.”

Shouyou laughs a little despite how he wishes he didn’t have to ask either. “It’s good to hear, though! I’m glad your parents love you.”

“They’ll love you too.”

The words make him freeze. “Kunimi,” Shouyou begins, unsure of where to even start, but addressing his friend by his family name clearly doesn’t do anything, so he hesitantly goes to, “Akira,” and Kunimi shifts and actually turns to look at him. “My own mother doesn’t even love me.”

“She’s a monster,” Kunimi states instead, glaring harshly at the ground. “I hate her.”

 _Monster_ echoes and curls on his tongue like a word just waiting to be said- but Shouyou knows that the moment he says it aloud and genuinely calls his mother a monster, there won’t be even the slightest hint of a future, possible (if highly unlikely) relationship with his mother. That he will have severed the fraying, barely existent bond between them for good.

“She isn’t,” Shouyou lies. “But I don’t think people who aren’t obligated to love me will- Not when a person who was supposed to never even tried.”

Kunimi scoffs, punching Shouyou’s shoulder- but not hard enough to hurt, _never_ enough to hurt. “And what do you think of all your friends? Of Oikawa?” 

Shouyou stills. 

Kunimi’s gaze softens and rather than punching him again, he just wraps an arm around his shoulder as he gazes at the evening sky above, gentle and careful as if memorizing the beauty of each shimmering star. Softly, he tells him, “No one ever told us to love you.”

Then, Kunimi glances at him, with as much tenderness as he did the sky, and a smile curls the edges of his lips. “But,” he says, “we do.”

“Oh,” is all he can say, and maybe a tear or two fall, but the important thing is that he leans against Kunimi and smiles and thinks of all the people who love him and all those to come and thinks that maybe, one person out of six or eight or ten isn’t so bad. That if his mother’s love was so fickle and always out of reach, maybe the ones who chose him time after time were the ones who mattered instead.

Then, Kunimi’s mother calls out, no trace of exhaustion or sadness to be found, “Dinner is ready- Dad is home!”

Kunimi blinks and then, a small smile spreads, as he stands up and offers Shouyou a hand up, which he takes. “C’mon, I think you’ll like him. He’s a bit of a volleyball nut.”

“No way!” Shouyou beams. “I love volleyball!”

Kunimi lets out a heavy sigh but leads Shouyou back to the dining room regardless. “Really? I would have never guessed.”

There, Kunimi’s father and mother sit at the table- it’s a strange sight to see, Kunimi’s mother laughing over something her husband whispers to her, elbowing him even as she looks at him with the utmost affection in her eyes.

It almost seems as if they’re in love.

Kunimi’s father spots him and brightens, waving the two of them over- luckily, Shouyou gets to sit next to Kunimi. “You’re Hinata, right?”

Shouyou nods, and then, he blurts out, “You like volleyball?”

The rest of dinner flies by, far faster than he wishes- Kunimi’s father has a flurry of questions he asks Shouyou, everything from volleyball to his everyday life, and Kunimi’s mother actually listens to his responses, asking follow up questions of his own. 

Kunimi sits at his side, offering up dry, witty responses and judgemental stares whenever Shouyou says something particularly stupid or volleyball-crazed- even though when Shouyou _really_ wants seconds but doesn’t know if that would be okay, he stands up and gets him another serving without a single word.

And even when Shouyou missteps- rambling a little too long about volleyball or using too many sound effects- nothing bad happens. There isn’t a sharp tongue or a harsh gaze or a raised hand.

It’s unsettling- _good_ but unsettling.

He isn’t sure he deserves such kindness.

Then, the dreaded question arises.

“Hinata,” Kunimi’s mother says, and even from the way she says his name, drawn out and careful, he knows this isn’t going to be as easygoing as their other topics. “I don’t mind if you stay with us but aren’t your parents worried?”

Shouyou laughs nervously, wondering how exactly to word his situation with enough clarity that Kunimi’s parents wouldn’t be unsatisfied with his answer and kick him out but not enough so that they would think his mother was a monster like their son did.

“My parents are divorced,” he explains, and then inspiration strikes. “My mother is overworked and taking care of me was really tough on her so… I was hoping I could lift that burden? At least for a bit?” 

It’s not technically a lie- everything he said was true! 

Mostly.

His mother _is_ overworked, although saying she took care of him was a pretty huge stretch, given how the most she did was leave him a paltry allowance (one that clearly didn’t take into account a teenage athlete’s appetite), _and_ saying Shouyou had any positive emotions towards his mother was probably the biggest lie he’s ever told.

Kunimi’s mother frowns but accepts what he says anyways. “How long?”

 _Forever_ , he thinks, but knows he can’t inconvenience them that much, no matter how much he wishes he could.

“For as long as he wants,” Kunimi cuts in.

“Huh,” Kunimi’s mother glances at Kunimi and as their eyes lock, it almost seems to him as if Kunimi is asking his mother _do you trust me?_ \- and then, she nods. “Of course.”

Then, just like that, dinner is over.

Kunimi leads Shouyou to his bedroom and gently shoves him onto the bed. “Night.”

Shouyou blinks at Kunimi’s back as he leaves before he leaps up to his feet and rushes after his friend in the hallway. “Wait, Kunimi, where are you sleeping then?”

Kunimi stops. “Couch.”

Shouyou blinks again and then shakes his head. “Doesn’t the guest usually-”

“Most guests aren’t close friends who were assaulted by their piece of shit mother,” Kunimi snaps, but a mere second later, slumps and turns back to face him with a sigh, all of his anger drained out of him. “I don’t want to make your life any harder.”

The gesture is strangely thoughtful- but regardless, Shouyou knows he can never accept it. “It’s fine, Kunimi! I can take the couch.”

“No,” Kunimi says simply. 

Just as it becomes clear that neither of them are willing to back down, Kunimi’s mother passes by the hallway before spotting them, turning back and then making her way towards them.

“Akira, Hinata,” she says, with a raised eyebrow and a hand on her hip. “And what exactly are you two fighting about?”

“We’re not fighting!” Shouyou immediately disagrees, and then, freezes- she doesn’t seem to be offended in the slightest, though, so he continues. “Just… disagreeing.”

Kunimi snorts- Shouyou whips around, only to see Kunimi’s face as indifferent as ever. “I’m sleeping on the couch, he’ll be in my bedroom.”

“You two do realize,” Kunimi’s mother sighs, exasperation with a hint of fondness, “there’s a spare futon in the closet down the hall?”

Grumbling, Kunimi heads in the opposite direction, seeming more than a little embarrassed- Shouyou is about to follow after him when Kunimi’s mother clears her throat and he glances at her, only to see a face drawn in worry.

“Hinata,” she says, and Shouyou steels himself for the worst- she’ll probably tell him she wants him to leave right this very instant and then, he’ll be forced to return to his mother. “I want you to know you’re always welcome at our home.”

That… certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting. 

Shouyou blinks, and luckily, she seems to get the message that he doesn’t understand because she, just as careful and slow as the first time, places a warm hand on his shoulder. “If you ever need to stay here, you’re free to. As long as you need.”

Her gaze is a little too kind and knowing- she’d probably picked up on how disastrously he’d reacted to her first attempt at a hug and even if she didn’t know the specifics, she was clearly too thoughtful to brush it aside.

“As long as I need,” Shouyou echoes, although a small part of him can’t help but doubt if she would still say the same if she knew how long he actually wanted to stay. “Right.”

He edges towards Kunimi's bedroom and watches her hand fall away. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she says back, even as she frowns, still staring as he flees back to Kunimi’s bedroom and slips inside after turning off the lights, settling onto the bed with a sigh. 

A small, volleyball-shaped night light illuminates the room with a dim glow.

He kind of wants one.

“My dad got me a bunch of volleyball merch when he found out I was joining the volleyball team,” Kunimi explains- which makes sense. He doesn’t exactly seem like the type to go out and buy volleyball merchandise (although Shouyou _definitely_ is.)

Shouyou glances at Kunimi from where he’s made himself comfortable on the futon he’s laid out- at this point, he’s practically ready to go to bed, underneath his covers. 

Shouyou definitely isn’t winning the battle of who slept on the futon, then.

Kunimi tosses him some of his spare clothes (a huge, familiar sweater and volleyball print shorts). “Here, since you probably shouldn’t sleep in your school uniform,” he says, and Shouyou can’t help but smile, even as Kunimi huffs and turns away.

“Thanks, Kunimi,” Shouyou says, and when he returns in comfortable clothing a little too large for him (of course he could never have a single friend who was a similar height to his…), Kunimi is still awake, having waited for him.

“I can tell her to avoid you, if you want,” Kunimi offers, as Shouyou settles onto the bed.

Shouyou shakes his head, only wishing it was that easy. “That would sound… really suspicious, Kunimi, but thanks.”

Besides, it didn’t matter- it would only be days before Kunimi’s parents get sick of him and kick him out and he goes crawling back to a woman who never loved him and never will.

Kunimi concedes and then throws his pillow at him. “Stop thinking so much.”

Shouyou scoffs, indignant before it flares and sputters out. “I’m not!” he denies and pouts when Kunimi’s stare remains disbelieving. “I… don’t think?”

“I can definitely believe that,” Kunimi rolls his eyes and holds out a hand- a universal sign meaning _hand me my pillow, dumbass_ and so, Shouyou tosses it back directly onto his face. 

“I hate you,” Kunimi says, muffled through the pillow.

Shouyou nods and can’t help but smile. “Of course! That’s why you were going to sleep on the couch just so I could sleep a little easier, right?” 

Kunimi settles his pillow underneath his head. “Seriously, I can talk to my mom. I don’t want…” Kunimi trails off.

Shouyou frowns, glancing outside the ajar window and the gentle breeze cool against his skin. “Don’t want what?” he asks and hopes he won’t regret it.

“You look so scared sometimes,” Kunimi says, and the fear is back. His voice trembles and his hands are knotted in his blankets. “I hate it. I hate that she made you like that.”

Shouyou stares- he wants to apologize but he has the terrible feeling that it would only make it worse. So instead, he tells him of the good instead of the bad, the comfort instead of the pain. “You help, though! You and my friends and Oikawa and even your mom.”

“You’re kind to me,” Shouyou tells him, and hopes his gratitude comes across at even a fraction of its true depth, “even though it’s not what I deserve.”

Kunimi actually glares at him for a split second before turning his gaze away to the ceiling. “It’s exactly what you deserve.”

Then, Kunimi sighs, something soft and sad. “I’m sorry she’s convinced you otherwise,” he says, in the darkness of his bedroom, “but it’s true, Shouyou. You're talented and friendly and hard working and passionate and- you’re a good friend.”

But, before Shouyou can figure out a way to refute the false compliments or say _thank you_ in a way as meaningful and kind as the words Kunimi spoke to him, and within a matter of seconds, Kunimi conks out. 

“Kunimi?” Shouyou whispers, but Kunimi genuinely and truly is already asleep somehow- maybe he was just exhausted from volleyball practice?

Shouyou doesn’t feel quite as ready to go to sleep though- it would mean he’d have to face the next day and an uncertain future where each day at Kunimi’s house could be his last.

Luckily, his phone vibrates.

 **Kageyama:** Saturday. 

The text is admittedly more than a little ominous and sounds a bit like Kageyama is telling him he only has until Saturday to live.

_Are you going to kill me?????_

**Kageyama:** No. Dumbass. 

_So… volleyball practice :D !!_

**Kageyama:** Yes. Come alone.

Nevermind.

He is going to be murdered.

_Can.. Can I ask why..?_

**Kageyama:** … Do you really think Oikawa would respond well to seeing me? Or Kindaichi or Kunimi?

_Hm. True._

Shouyou very kindly does not mention how all three of them hate Kageyama’s guts.

_Meet me at 2 pm at the train station near Karasuno!!!! It’ll be fun!!!!!!_

It’s then that Shouyou tosses his phone aside and falls into the covers of Kunimi’s bed with a heavy sigh- his days here are limited, a ticking counter that even he doesn’t know the number to, but he’ll try to enjoy himself while he can.

Sooner or later, Shouyou knows the unfortunate truth.

It was an eventuality he returns underneath his mother’s distant care, regardless of how the terror has made its home in his bones and echoes in his friends’ eyes. 

Life is unfair, and Shouyou knows this very, very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will definitely be quite a bit slower than they were during the summer- unfortunately, school has begun and it is already incredibly exhausting. I'll likely update at least once a week (since I'll make sure my weekends are free to spend writing), though!  
> Thank you for reading!


	12. Rise from the Ashes (and then Fall)

Shouyou is an _idiot_ \- he should’ve seen this coming from the few times it’s already happened and honestly, the fact that he even let this happen only speaks to how much of an absolute dumbass he is.

And so, Shouyou sits in the middle of the hallway, desperately heaving in breath after breath even as his hands shake out in front of him, and wishing he wasn’t so stupid.

If he was _normal_ , he wouldn’t flinch at the stupidest things and perceive threats where none existed- 

“Shouyou,” a voice calls out, and Shouyou buries his head in his arms and hopes that maybe, they’ll think he’s dead and leave him alone. 

Then, he hears them settle besides him- far enough that they were carefully giving him enough space, space that he didn’t even _deserve_ -

“There isn’t any reason you have to be nice,” Shouyou says, glancing up with a heavy frown at his overly supportive boyfriend. “I was being stupid for no reason.”

“Do I need a reason other than loving you?”

His breath catches in his throat.

“But,” he says, trembling and unsure where Tooru is so certain. Then, two words flash in his mind from so long ago. “I’m _me-_ ”

“And I love you all the more for it,” Tooru responds instantly in turn and when Shouyou has no words (how could one person love him for being himself and another despise him for it?), Tooru softens and slides a bit closer, reaching out his hand onto the hallway floor, outstretched- an offer to hold hands, not a demand, and maybe it’s stupid to find it so sweet but he does. From his affectionate boyfriend who clings to him whenever he can, it means _everything_. 

Shouyou doesn’t reach his hand out quite yet, though- regardless of how touching the gesture felt, he still trembles with the residue fear clinging to his skin and his breaths are too shaky for him to feel like doing anything normal at the moment. 

“But I freaked out in front of the entire team,” Shouyou blurts out and winces while Tooru considers his words and then shrugs.

“I don’t think you freaked out, Shou-chan!” Tooru tells him.

Shouyou huffs out a nervous laugh. “Uh, I’m pretty sure I did?”

“Well,” Tooru shakes his head, all with a small smile on his face, “ _I’m_ pretty sure it was a reasonable reaction due to trauma!” 

When Shouyou stares, utterly unconvinced, Tooru sighs a little and drops the smile, gaze turning serious. “Your mother _hit_ you- and even before that, she never provided the emotional support a kid needs from their mom… I don’t think any of your reactions due to what she’s done can ever be called freaking out or overreacting or _anything_.”

Shouyou shrinks a little into himself at the words- never providing emotional support definitely sounded accurate, but to even think that felt like a betrayal of his duty to his mother as her son. 

“I don’t know…” Shouyou says, even as he hates the way his uncertainty makes Tooru seem just the slightest bit sadder. 

Tooru shakes his head again and then, as if resolving himself, “That’s okay, too! I can tell you as many times as you need to learn that it’s true.”

“But I don’t _deserve_ that-” the words rush out before he can stop them and Tooru’s expression darkens before it forcibly lightens up and a definitively fake smile takes its place that lightens with his following words.

“You do,” Tooru says simply. “You deserve the entire world and everything beyond.”

The words sink in for a moment, uncomfortable against the backdrop of his own self-doubt- he thinks about what it would be like if Tooru’s words were true, if he was the person that Tooru so clearly saw him as. 

Shouyou shakes his head. “I still don’t know,” he echoes, but before Tooru even has time to do anything more than frown, “But if you really think so… Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to believe you. If only for a moment.”

Tangling their fingers together, Shouyou beams- with Tooru’s hand in his own, he can barely feel it shake, and that, in and of itself, is freedom. 

The most incredible, talented, and beautiful boy in the world besides him, telling him he deserved everything and more, even when Shouyou overreacted, even when he didn’t deserve it-

 _Maybe_ , he thinks.

_Maybe this is love._

Then, Tooru stands. “C’mon, we still have the rest of practice, Shou-chan!”

Shouyou brightens as he gets up before he remembers that _right_ , he’d kind of fled from the gym.

(One of the couches had taken a single, menacing step towards Kunimi after he’d been slacking, with a raised voice and thundering expression, and he, like the idiot he was, had outstretched an arm and stepped forward, trembling, as if to protect Kunimi from a strike that hadn’t even been coming. Even as his heart pounded in his chest and terror dissolved all of his thoughts into a single mass of mind-numbing fear desperate to protect his friend-)

“Are they mad?” Shouyou asks, still trailing behind Tooru as he leads the way back to the gym. 

Tooru waves it off with an easy smile and takes his hand as they both enter the gym, a silent reassurance and promise to stand by his side. “It’ll be fine! Besides, your boyfriend is the captain- have a little faith! Mean Shou-chan…”

Shouyou laughs a little at his overdramatic pouting- and it seems like that had been Tooru’s goal because he brightens the next moment after and tugs him towards the team.

“Practice is resuming!” Tooru announces to the team, and then smiles much, much more ominously than he had when he was comforting Shouyou. “I’m sure no one has any questions...”

Everyone nods- only Kunimi, Kindaichi, and Iwaizumi cast him worried looks, the rest carefully keeping their gazes averted as if to avoid risking the wrath of their captain.

“It’s serving practice time!” Tooru cheers, looking much too pleased.

“Bakakawa!” Iwaizumi glares, even as the rest of the team splits off to practice on their own or in pairs. “You only want to practice serves to show off to your boyfriend, _dumbass_ -”

Tooru scoffs. “Me? Never!”

Then, as if to drag Shouyou in the middle of their argument, Tooru turns pleading eyes towards him with the biggest, most adorable, stupidly charming pout. “Shou-chan! Tell Iwa-chan he’s a stupid meanie!”

Despite how flustered he still gets from Tooru, or maybe _because_ of it, Shouyou only covers his face as he can feel it traitorously warm. “Iwaizumi-senpai is very kind and a good person!” he blurts out instead. 

Iwaizumi grins at him and ruffles his hair, even as Tooru looks as if he has been betrayed in the worst kind of way possible, and then Shouyou runs away to Kunimi and Kindaichi.

Kindaichi smiles when he comes over and waves- meanwhile, Kunimi tosses his ball up and then catches it, not even glancing over.

“I would’ve been okay, you know,” Kunimi says. 

Shouyou can’t help but pout- even _he_ knows how stupid it was but in that one instant, the thought of Kunimi being hurt had terrified him even more than the thought of being hurt himself. “Yeah... I know.”

“But,” Kunimi continues and turns away to serve a ball with perfect, albeit relaxed form. “It was nice of you. I guess.”

Kindaichi, from where he’s been watching the two go back and forth, snorts. “That’s him saying it was really touching, Hinata. Kunimi is allergic to stating his true feelings.”

Kunimi turns back to glare at Kindaichi- but funnily enough, his face looks a little more red than usual. “I am not. Fact one: You’re the worst.”

“Aw,” Shouyou grins. “Kunimi! You’re so sweet!”

Kunimi glares even harder- but still, not at Shouyou. 

“Wait. No,” and then he realizes, even as he thinks he might melt from how sweet it is. “You don’t glare directly at me because you don’t want to scare me. Oh my god, _Kunimi-_ ”

Kindaichi, with a huge grin, slings an arm around Shouyou’s shoulder. “He’s _always_ been like this, don’t worry! In middle school, he’d always put a hand on my shoulder to calm me down from the king’s tyranny.”

“Aw,” Shouyou cooes again, and Kunimi stews beside them, cheeks darkened and glaring at Kindaichi as hard as he can. Then, he goes to serve the ball _again_ despite it being twice in a row and facing them, Kindaichi’s smile falling away even as he doesn’t move away, and- 

The volleyball nails Kindaichi right on his forehead.

“My hand slipped.”

Shouyou shakes his head- “There’s been a murder.”

“Oh no,” Kunimi says, with a small, unnatural smile. “That is _such_ a shame.”

Then, he turns and walks away to continue his serving practice.

 _Okay_ , Shouyou thinks, with no small amount of reservation, _never make Kunimi mad or risk his undying wrath. Noted._

Kindaichi, thankfully, isn’t down for the count in the slightest. “I probably deserved that,” he admits, and Shouyou pats him on the back in sympathy. 

The rest of practice is standard fare- it’s an odd sensation to be feeling _used_ to practicing in a volleyball team, although he thinks he’ll never ever tire of it, not for as long as he breathes. 

The feeling of a volleyball in his hands, a sure and steady weight just begging to be spiked, blazes faster and burns hotter than the brightest of hopes. 

And now, he gets to feel it nearly every day for hours and hours- can feel it sing in his veins, a symphony of what was once crushed rising up again from the ashes, an undying phoenix.

It’s beautiful- it’s all he’d ever dreamed of.

Still, regardless of how much of a team it’s like, Shouyou knows he isn’t _really_ a part of them- isn’t one of the all-important six rising above.

Even if Iwaizumi stays behind and provides tip after tip, adjusting his posture and showing him the best ways to receive, even if Kunimi and Kindaichi are his closest friends and Tooru his boyfriend, he knows their places are on the team and his _isn’t_ (no matter how badly he wishes it was)-

Even if it feels like sometimes, he’s disappointing everyone who cares about him and isn’t even improving fast enough.

Shouyou _will_ get better. He _has_ to, or he’ll be left behind in the dust and wondering when it had even happened (hint: _it was when you fell and didn’t get up, when you let your pity and misery consume you whole, until there was nothing of you left, only sorrow and a tragedy just waiting to unfold- it was when you stopped trying, so ignore the ache in your bones and the pain in your heart and get up and keep trying_ ).

It burns but it pushes him forward nonetheless, towards the idea of finally being good enough (but how good was even good enough- never?).

Shouyou works harder than he ever thought he could and then _harder_ , until practice is long over and everyone has already gone home, volleyball only a far-off thought in their minds.

“Shou-chan!” Tooru sing-songs and Shouyou reluctantly stops (but only for the day). “So I was thinking… you and me this Saturday! I take you to a nice cafe, pay for a parfait or two to share?”

As Shouyou steals his boyfriend’s jacket in what has become a routine (it’s big and comforting and makes him feel like Tooru is always besides him, even when he isn’t), he brightens but then, right before he can agree readily, he freezes. “Saturday,” he says instead, wondering what the best way to phrase this would be. “A date.”

Tooru nods slowly, squinting as he locks up the gym. “We… _are_ dating, right? This isn’t a dream I’ve been having?”

“Of course!” Shouyou responds and then laughs a little to try and stall at least a few seconds more. “I’m kind of… busy on Saturday is all.”

“Aw, no worries!” Tooru immediately reassures, taking his hand as they walk down the winding halls of their school. “Hanging out with friends is important, Shou-chan!”

At that, Shouyou blinks and tries for an innocent smile- from the look on Tooru’s face, he’s failed. “I wouldn’t call him a _friend_ necessarily? He’s… more of an acquaintance I met at our last practice game.”

When the realization dawns, it’s clear to see. 

“No,” Tooru murmurs, shocked. “Really? _Tobio_?”

Something about the way Tooru says Kageyama’s name sets Shouyou’s skin prickling, uncomfortable from the deadly malice of it all.

“He’s not that bad a guy!” Shouyou instantly defends the standoffish Karasuno setter, knowing it would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he didn’t. “He’s just… socially awkward. I think. It’s either that or plotting to murder me.”

“Oh, of course, I think everyone knows how awkward Tobio-chan is!” Tooru easily agrees, a cruel and mocking tinge to his words, before, “Wait, murder?!”

“Not murder!” Shouyou blurts out. “Maybe.”

Tooru remains unconvinced- although, that’s fairly unsurprising, given how Shouyou himself is still wavering back and forth on the issue. 

“I’m coming with you,” Tooru says, and Shouyou freezes.

He remembers _very_ clearly how Kageyama’s text told him to come alone.

“Oh, it’s okay!” 

“Alright!” Tooru nods and smiles- when Shouyou blinks at how easy that had been, he continues, crushing that fleeting hope with just six words, “I’m still coming with you, though.”

Then, Tooru brightens. “Plus, we can get parfaits after!”

Shouyou scrunches his face up- the idea of going to a fancy cafe where he felt sorely out of place right after he was in his element playing volleyball doesn’t sound very fun. “But we’ll be sweaty!”

“There’ll be AC!” Tooru tells him. From the big smile on his face and slightly distant look to his eyes, he’s already completely convinced and has decided that it’ll definitely be the course of action they’ll take. Knowing him, he’s also probably been scouting the location for days and has scoured the menu half a dozen times to find the most appetizing, perfect parfaits.

Shouyou sighs but he can’t _really_ say no to his boyfriend, not when his hand is in his own and his jacket is protecting him from the mild breeze and his heart is bursting with affection for this moment. “You’re paying,” Shouyou says instead with a pout.

Tooru laughs- it’s _terrible_ how pretty a laugh can be, how it can twist Shouyou’s stomach into fluttering fondness and be the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“Of course,” Tooru tells him, a soft smile playing on his lips- he looks at him with so much affection in his gaze that it leaves him breathless, wondering if maybe, Tooru loves him too. “I’d never thought otherwise, my love.”

At first, Shouyou only smiles at him for a moment as they arrive at Kunimi’s house and just as Tooru is about to part from him, _that’s_ when it hits him all at once and he’s spluttering, surely bright red, as the words _my love_ echo in his mind like a never-ending melody.

“Ooh, Shou-chan likes that nickname, I see!” Tooru beams before drawing him into a hug, his arms so snug and comforting that Shouyou wishes he could stay there all night, in this single blissful moment with a smile on his lips and his heart as light as the breeze. 

But like all good things, they must come to an end, and so they part, even if Tooru’s hands linger on his waist as he pulls away and even if Shouyou watches his boyfriend walk away, who casts soft, fond glances back and waves each time, until he turns the corner-

And just like that, Tooru is gone and the moment is over and Shouyou is left painfully alone.

He leans against one of the walls of Kunimi’s house, trying to figure out a way to procrastinate going inside (it aches to see a family so whole and complete when his own is broken and shattered beyond repair) before he whips out his phone.

_Hey, Kageyama… If…. I said.. Oikawa was coming… what would you say?_

**Kageyama:** No.

Well. No one could ever say Kageyama wasn’t honest.

_He.. kind of insisted… I accidentally maybe might have mentioned a possible murder plot._

There isn’t a reply, even as Shouyou half-heartedly waits for one in the passing minutes before he shuffles towards the door reluctantly.

Right. 

Shouyou just has to go inside, that’s easy, really! Probably one of the easiest things ever-

 **Kageyama:** Oikawa can be.. Determined. 

Oh, thank god-

Shouyou settles back against the door with great relief.

 **Kageyama:** … I’ll be there. Do not invite anyone else.

_Whoo!!!! Thanks, Kageyama!!!! I’ll do my best!!!!!!_

Kageyama spends a moment typing before the texting bubble mysteriously disappears- knowing Kageyama, he would probably call him a dumbass or something, given how all his other prickly friends so often did.

Then, when it becomes clear that he’s put off entering for as long as he could, Shouyou finally enters Kunimi’s house and crosses the uncomfortable border from friend to guest.

Kunimi’s mother waves when he passes by her on his way to Kunimi’s bedroom but even he can see the question locked behind her eyes behind her polite but slightly distant manners- she wants to know the real reason why he’s still at their home, even after just three days.

Kunimi was wrong, Shouyou _himself_ was wrong.

He didn’t have a few weeks left- he had days.

Shouyou settles onto Kunimi’s bed, and even when his stomach twists into knots and the words burn as they scrape against his throat, he says nothing. Kunimi casts him a strange look but when Shouyou stays silent, he doesn’t push, and so Shouyou thinks and thinks and thinks as he stares at the wall.

Two days, maybe three or four, if he pushed it- but beyond that, everything is unknown.

When dinner comes, Shouyou has already returned Kunimi’s sweater to its rightful place in his closet and packed up all his school belongings into his backpack.

Kunimi’s mother asks him questions at dinner, as she did the day before, but now, with the absence of Kunimi’s father and Kunimi refraining from conversation, the distance between them feels as though it's widened far greater than even the distance between them when they had first met.

He is nothing but a guest in this household- even in his own, he had always been unwanted, so why would it have ever been different here?

If Shouyou responds a little more quietly than he usually does, if he doesn’t even let the thought of seconds cross his mind, then he’s doing it right. He offers to help with the dishes, as guests so often do, and Kunimi’s mother, the host, graciously refuses.

Shouyou nods and walks away, even as a part of him wants to insist, he knows it isn’t his place (and never will be). His backpack heavy upon his shoulders and Tooru’s jacket a distant comfort, Shouyou’s lips set into a hard frown.

He knows what he has to do and has known it the moment he’d given in to Kunimi’s persistent badgering to stay at his place.

The only question is if he can do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be doing something a little funky for the next two chapters... I've thought about it carefully so it should work, hopefully! Both are shorter than the normal chapters so there should be a bit less of a wait between them.  
> Thank you for reading!


	13. The Laws of the Universe

“Hinata?”

Shouyou stills, looking back to see Kunimi- he doesn’t even seem confused, his eyes already having spotted his backpack, and he seems, in a strange way, almost sad.

The door is right in front of him, tauntingly close.

“I have to go back,” he says, and he can see the exact moment the thought truly registers for Kunimi- he starts, desperation hidden behind narrowed eyes.

“You don’t have to,” Kunimi argues, gaze as carefully averted as it always was when he glared- regardless of his kindness, Shouyou knows his fate and his path always leads back to his mother.

“Your mother already wants to know,” Shouyou points out and despite how the words should be freeing to finally speak, they still burn. “I can’t tell her.”

As kind as Kunimi is, he can’t understand- it doesn’t matter if his mother hit him, he’ll still always go crawling back, aching for love he knows she’ll never give. It is the law of the universe, no matter how painful it is.

Kunimi falters at his words. There seem to be a thousand thoughts in a thunderstorm but each one is locked behind his eyes and he doesn’t say anything, as if he can’t bring himself to. Maybe, there is nothing to say.

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou apologizes, regret stirring even as he knows there was no other true option. He crosses the border from guest to friend once again, for what will hopefully be the last time- it comes with a terrible sense of finality.

The walk home isn’t long, nor is it short. It lasts exactly as long as he expects it to, each step carefully measured against the unsettling blankness of his mind.

When he steps into his mother’s apartment, he stills.

His mother is in the middle of having dinner- she pauses for only the briefest of moments when she notices he’s there, and then continues, seeming not at all worried about where he’d been while he was gone. “You’re back.”

“Yes,” he says. Shouyou would avoid her eyes but she isn’t even looking, so he doesn’t. “I’m back.”

And just like that, he is.

The last six days of absolute freedom are gone and Shouyou is home and everything is ruined- and yet, his mother doesn’t care. She never has and yet, even as he stands in front of her, choking on unbidden words in his throat, she doesn’t look up, not even once.

So, Shouyou goes to his bedroom and stares and stares at the wall.

(If he had been better, maybe his mother would love him.)

When his phone vibrates, once and then twice, he spares a glance at its screen, half-hearted even in that attempt, until he sees Kunimi’s name and his lips twist into a frown and he looks away. Kunimi will say to come back, that he could _always_ come back- Kunimi will only say things that Shouyou already knows but cannot bring himself to ever believe.

The laws of the universe have demanded he returned and so he has.

And life will continue on, as it always did. He would go to school and volleyball practice and return home and then repeat the same process every single day- he would laugh and joke and smile with his friends as if he would not return here within the day. 

And maybe his mother would hit him again or maybe she never would, but either way, he would always flinch if someone raised their voice a little too angry and a little too loud and he would always fear a raised hand from an adult, no matter how stupid he knew it was, and now, it felt as though nothing would ever change that. It felt as if he would always remain suspended in a chrysalis of his own fear, paralyzed with terror choking the words in his throat like hot coals, burning and burning until he thought he could never speak again, until there was nothing left.

And so, when  Shouyou sleeps, he dreams of a better world.

It is a world similar to his own but different in one fundamental way.

Everything else is painfully similar- the feeling of Tooru’s hand in his own, his friends’ good-natured bickering, and the jacket settled around his shoulders, too large in the best way.

It’s a world where he lives a life so utterly disconnected from his mother that when the thought strikes him in the middle of his dream, his first thought is _who?_

It’s then that he blinks to a darkened room, ashes of hope long burnt out still on his tongue.

When Shouyou leaves, he doesn’t bother to call out _good morning_ to his mother when he passes by her in her frenzied rush to get to work on time, doesn’t ask if he can do anything to help, and doesn’t even want to- he watches her struggle for the briefest of moments before he turns away.

There comes a discomfort with finally having acknowledged and accepted the distance between him and his mother. There’s a strange tinge to it all, as if he was unsure of whether it was a good or bad thing.

Shouyou arrives at school and sees a deadly combination as he stops, outside the often deserted hallway near their classroom- Kunimi, Kindaichi, _and_ Tooru.

Unlike the other two, Kindaichi at least tries for a smile when he waves. Kunimi is carefully neutral but there’s the same worry burning behind his eyes that makes his skin prickle and shouts at him to leave. 

And Tooru was standing there besides his two friends, with soft, concerned eyes and his fingers twitching as if he wanted to draw him into a hug at that instant but was holding back nonetheless.

“You can’t go back,” Kunimi insists, again.

It’s a familiar song and dance by this point- a small part of him wants to smile from it all but a much greater part wishes they would stop and accept what was truth itself.

“I already have.”

Kunimi shakes his head vigorously, and just as he’s about to continue, Kindaichi settles a hand on his shoulder and he stops.

“Hinata,” Kindaichi starts. “I don’t know what your mom is saying but… I don’t think any of it could be true. Even if she says she loves you-”

At that, Shouyou laughs a little before he can stop himself. “She hasn’t said anything, actually!” he informs them, probably finding a bit too much humor in their words. 

When he had arrived home, nothing had changed for her- it was just another day.

“She hasn’t said anything,” Kunimi echoes, and then as the fury ignites, Kindaichi lets out a sigh and flashes him a tight smile.

“We’re going to class,” Kindaichi cuts in. “See you soon, Hinata?”

Kunimi doesn’t get the chance to explode with all the words building up behind his eyes that are shoved down instead. He turns away, with the slightest shake to his shoulders, and leaves with Kindaichi, who, in a low voice, starts to tell him something too quiet for Shouyou to hear. 

Then, Tooru is all that remains.

Shouyou glances over and finds, to his never-ending disappointment at himself, that his boyfriend looks exhausted- there’s a terrible sadness in his eyes.

“Shouyou,” Tooru says to him, interlocking their hands together as if it was all that was keeping him grounded. “You know that’s not normal, right?”

Shouyou looks away, wondering how he can say that when it’s all Shouyou has ever known. But even from the glimpses he’d gotten of Kunimi’s parents and the little he heard about his other friends’ parents when they happened to come up, he knew he couldn’t deny what Tooru said. “Yeah,” he says instead. “I know.”

“She treats you like shit,” Tooru seethes quietly and through it all, his grip never tightens and instead of fear stirring, there’s only worry. “She didn’t even give you an apology, did she?”

Shouyou stays silent- it felt too much like a condemnation when he didn’t even deserve one. He had stepped out of line and been punished accordingly.

“Shouyou-” Tooru begins but Shouyou shakes his head and he falls silent.

“Not now?” Shouyou pleads quietly. 

_Not ever_ , he wishes but even he knows that is but a child’s dream.

Tooru nods, even as he looks disheartened, hand slipping away from his own. “Of course, Shouyou. Whatever you need.”

At the words, Shouyou inhales sharply before forcing the frustration to fall away. What he _needs_ is for everyone to stop telling him his mother was a monster when he knew that if anything, it was the other way around- what he _needs_ is for everyone to realize the long-known truths his mother had learned long, long ago.

Shouyou steps away, going through the rest of the day with numb fingertips and an empty heart, knowing no one could understand. 

Kunimi and Kindaichi hover nearby, their worry so obvious it makes his stomach twist- he wants to fix everything, to smooth over the tension between them, and go back to normal, but somehow, he’s messed everything up _again_. 

Tooru is painfully absent, and it’s only without his hand in Shouyou’s own that he finally realizes how much he had come to rely on his boyfriend, reliable and supportive as he was. It’s only without him that he realizes how lost he feels.

It was easy to condemn his mother for everyone else- but for him, with that one spring afternoon forever stained in his mind, a burning imprint was still oozing and bubbling in the corner of his mind with pain and confusion and, worst of all, love growing bitter. 

(Maybe the worst part is that it’s his own fault.)

 _Perhaps_ , he thinks. It is time for an interlude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are pretty short but hopefully the somewhat shorter update times will make up for it!  
> Thank you for reading!


	14. Interlude: Spring Afternoon

The silence of their house is unnerving.

Usually, Natsu’s excited chatter reverberates through the entire household, their parents’ laughs easy and sweet as they murmur question after question in voices too low for Shouyou to hear. 

Sometimes, he sits besides them. 

He tries to laugh at all the right times, cut in at just the right moments to ask Natsu questions. But each time, his laugh is a little too loud and forced and he cuts off his parents a few too many times for them to believe him when he tries to tell them it was an accident.

He doesn’t sit beside them anymore.

“I’m heading out,” Shouyou says to the emptiness, and when his mother glances up from the table with a small, if not distant smile, something in his chest soars, even as his stomach twists into knots when he thinks about how, if he was Natsu, his mother would care far more.

“Take care, Shouyou,” his mother tells him, and even though it doesn’t sound like she entirely means it, he still brightens and beams, despite knowing what he was about to do.

At the very least, Shouyou would have this, right?

(It was just that  _ this  _ wasn’t enough.)

“Of course!” Shouyou blurts out, a little too nervous to pass off as his normal jittery nerves. His mother pauses, eyes sharp before she turns away.

He steps out of the house into the slight breeze.

Then, he spots his friends and grins. 

“Izumin! Kouji!” Shouyou waves wildly. His friends look slightly exasperated but they’re grinning back nonetheless, soothing the anxiety twisting his stomach into knots.

The sun warm on his face, it almost feels like nothing could ever go wrong. 

“I have the tickets,” Izumi says, and Shouyou smiles as Izumi hands them to him- he can count on his friends for anything! 

(The three tickets are so papery thin and fragile in his hand.)

Just as he takes a step forward, the door opens with a quiet thud.

“Shouyou.” 

The smiles on his friends’ faces fall away, and as he stands there, fingertips numb, he can’t help but feel a bitterness, growing sharper and sharper as each moment passes.

Then, worse, “I know you didn’t forget.”

There is disappointment, clear in her voice, but worse, is how it almost sounds like she had expected this all along. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

She already knows.

Shouyou glances at his friends.

(Three tickets lay on the ground, forgotten.)

Kouji and Izumi both look apologetic as Shouyou’s mother’s hand clenches around his wrist and she drags him away, but they don’t do or say anything- as frustration twists in his stomach and tears him into pieces, it takes every bit of his energy to not glare or scream at the people he would’ve called friends just minutes earlier. 

Maybe the worst part is they don’t even know what they’ve done.

“Mom?” he asks into the silence of the car.

She doesn’t answer, which only makes his stomach twist even further- she’s been mad at him before, sure, but it’s never felt quite so chilly or cold as it did this afternoon. She had always loved Natsu more but, uncomfortable as the fact was, he had learned to live with it and accept the crumbs of his mother’s affection whenever she would spare the leftovers of her love.

“I can’t believe you would do this,” Shouyou’s mother says instead and the coldness in her voice is even more noticeable than it usually was. “To your own sister.”

(And that was when he first learned the bitter truth that no one would understand and that it was better to not say anything at all. Izumin and Kouji had told him _of course, your parents love you, what kind of question is that?_ and _all parents love their children, Shouyou_ - and they were wrong.)

When her gaze locks onto his in the rearview mirror, he looks away. 

“It’s just one game.” And then, before he can stop the words from bubbling out, “You’ve never come to any of mine. No one ever has.”

At that, his mother laughs for a moment and he stares. Shouyou has  _ never  _ seen his mother laugh from any of his words- for Natsu, she would beam and laugh as if it came to her as easily as breathing around her. For her son, though, she had never even smiled.

His mother laughs and it’s pure and free- and tainted with the edge of something mocking and bitter, as if she believed the idea of anyone bothering to come to his games for him to be utterly ridiculous.

Then, somehow, it gets worse.

Her smile drops. 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” she says, too clinical and detached for him to ever feel as if he could bridge the aching distance between them. “You’re you, are you not?”

“I’m me,” he echoes and blinks through the tears as he stares at his trembling hands in his lap and wishes he was anyone else.

Izumi and Kouji had said he could sneak out to one volleyball game and skip just one of his sister’s games and that his parents might get mad but ultimately, they  _ loved  _ him so it would be fine! 

And Shouyou, despite the realization beginning to ache in his bones, swallowed down the fear of disappointing his parents and thought this could decide it once and for all.

If they did, then everything would gain a new tinge of hope to it.

And if they didn’t- 

Shouyou doesn’t really know what he’ll do.

When Shouyou’s mother leaves the car and heads towards the bleachers, she doesn’t look back to see if he follows. She brightens as she sees something far off in the corner, and begins to call out a name, ringing with hope so pure and loving that it left something in him bitter and aching.

From that day on, Shouyou doesn’t do anything other than practice for volleyball. Where he once hung out with Izumi and Kouji, he turns away instead (it’s easier to blame them because if he doesn’t, he’ll know who the only one left to blame is) and stares at the wall as he tosses the volleyball at it, over and over and over. He doesn’t let himself think about anything about volleyball because the moment he does, regret drowns him under its weight and what-ifs and so, volleyball becomes the answer to everything. 

His mother doesn’t look at him anymore. Maybe she doesn’t think there’s anything worth seeing- maybe she’s right.

Shouyou has ruined the little love she’d had for him in one fell swoop- the one time he had chosen to be selfish and it had backfired in the worst way possible. Now, he knew he could never be selfish again or have everything he’d grown to love crumble and fall apart once again. 

From that day on, Shouyou doesn’t wonder if they’ve forgiven him for daring to exist, doesn’t even bother to.

He already knows the answer, after all.

(They didn’t.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a normal length!!  
> Thank you for reading!


	15. The Unknown Beyond

When Shouyou leaves the train station nearby Karasuno and makes his way to the park, he frowns when Kageyama isn’t already there.

It means more time alone with his thoughts- which is something he’s already had far too much of for his own liking. 

For the past two days, everyone at Aoba Johsai had left him alone- his only respite had been when he could secretly text Kenma (and by extension, Kuroo) and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi outside of classes. If it hadn’t been for them- Shouyou would rather not think about it.

Because Tooru had wanted to give Shouyou space, he had even agreed to let him go to hang out with Kageyama alone! Kageyama had seemed, unsurprisingly, incredibly relieved when Shouyou had texted him the news, even if only in his usual socially awkward manner. 

Tooru _did_ make Shouyou promise to text him if he needed anything, though, (even if Shouyou knew he would never actually be able to bother him). 

Not only that, but he had told him he would meet him by the train station near Shouyou’s place at the scheduled time when he and Kageyama would stop practicing, because Tooru was caring and kind and the _best_ boyfriend to ever boyfriend. 

And at least Tooru, who for the most part, _did_ try to give him space, had sent him a few, stupidly mushy texts each day- ones that made his heart warm and a silly smile stretch on his face from how sweet they were, even as those same hopeful, fluttering feelings faded away soon after when he remembered his friends.

Kunimi and Kindaichi had stayed away.

Throughout each lunch period and break, he could hear their quiet conversations and occasionally, he would glance over and his breath would catch in his throat at how happy they seemed (without him). Something in him would twist and he couldn’t even tell whether the bitter words ablaze in his throat were meant for them or for himself- for daring to think he could ever belong, that someone could ever look at him and see something worth seeing.

Shouyou has always known he was an intruder on friendships that had long been at play without him but no one had ever truly made him feel so out of place. 

Kunimi and Kindaichi are clearly better off without him- maybe, _everyone_ is. 

For the past few days, Shouyou has had more time than he ever has to think and think (and realize that his mother was right).

Ever since that one spring afternoon, he had known the truth, but even now, it lays unbidden and unwanted in his chest, tainting his heart with each beat it dared to take.

“Hey, dumbass.” 

And Shouyou had _never_ thought being called such an idiot could provide him with such great relief (the memories of his mother’s silence are burned into his mind- anything and anyone was better than being alone again, with only himself to blame).

“I’m not a dumbass!” Shouyou argues instead, grinning even as he does.

Kageyama rolls his eyes but he follows Shouyou when he sets off towards the park nearby anyways. “I called your name like three times. You only responded to dumbass.”

Shouyou coughs to try and pretend like he isn’t flushing with embarrassment. “No,” he says. “You’re a dumbass!”

The comeback isn’t one of his best, to say the least.

Kageyama’s fingers twitch beside him, a deadpan stare set in a chilling glare that sends shivers down his spine. “Really,” he says.

“Anyway.” Shouyou forces a laugh so he won’t run away and hide behind the nearest tree. “We’re here!”

Kageyama blinks and the irritation melts away, just like that. 

The park is larger than he remembered but just as vacant as it had been during his childhood. There isn’t really any one, specific place that’s best for volleyball practice but he leads Kageyama to the very back anyways with a practiced familiarity, where no one passing by on the street could see them.

“You’ve been here before,” Kageyama says, blunt as ever.

Shouyou shrugs. “Maybe once or twice!” he chirps but when Kageyama doesn’t laugh or even smile, he deflates a little. “I grew up around here.”

Then, the realization dawns on Kageyama’s face, clear to see but no less uncomfortable. “You moved away,” he accuses, a little more hostile than what makes sense. “You were going to come to Karasuno.”

“Yes?” Shouyou says, unsure of how to respond to the hostility he didn’t even know how he’d earned. “My parents divorced?”

Kageyama’s glare grows a little less harsh and then, it falls away. “Oh,” he says. “Okay.”

The lack of any words of sympathy or apologies is a little startling compared to the rest of his friends but oddly enough, it feels as though it was exactly what he needed.

“I brought a volleyball!” Shouyou shouts instead- the adrenaline pumping in his veins as he bounces up and down. He’s going to practice with the _king_ of the volleyball court and show him just how much he’s improved since their last match together.

Kageyama glances at the duffel bag he’d brought and nods. “Serves first. I remember yours sucked.”

The indignation rises, and, Shouyou glares from the condescending tone before he can think otherwise of provoking the king. “I do not suck!”

“Oh, really?” Kageyama says- and it almost feels like a challenge. “Show me, then, just what you’ve been doing these past few months.”

The familiar wording twinges painfully in his chest, scraping at a still festering wound, but Shouyou huffs and picks up his volleyball with trembling fingers anyways, even as his stomach twists. 

He can do this- he _has_ to do this.

Shouyou takes a deep breath, winding up before a flash of movement catches his gaze and he stumbles, his serve falling short.

Kageyama is glaring again, shouting at him something about _wasted potential_ and _Oikawa_ but somehow, he can’t muster up the usual righteous frustration and instead, it feels as though his legs have been swept out from under him, knowing that-

Shouyou drags Kageyama a little farther away so the trees can completely conceal them, and daring one glance back, breathes out a silent sigh of relief.

“I thought I saw someone,” Shouyou explains, even though Kageyama only blinks as if he wasn’t even going to ask. “I’m going to serve again!”

A deep breath in, and then out- 

With that, he serves.

Thankfully, it goes much better than his last failed attempt and he preens a little before he remembers there’s no Iwaizumi to ruffle his hair and tell him _good job_ or Tooru to cheer and press a fluttering kiss on the top of his head or even Ku-

“I’ve been practicing,” Shouyou says instead and tries for a smile. 

The look on Kageyama’s face isn’t nearly as impressed as it should be but surprisingly, there’s a trace of begrudging respect, and it finally feels like Shouyou is doing something _right_.

“Oikawa and Iwaizumi have been helping you.”

And with that, the smile that had been on his lips falls away.

There isn’t a single poisonous note in Kageyama’s voice but there’s something about the way the light filters through the fluorescent leaves on the trees above and strikes his eyes, unflinching and harsh and _aching_ , casting a grim shadow upon his face.

There’s something about the way that Kageyama is looking at him.

And _that’s_ when Shouyou realizes.

The words burn in his throat- but there is nothing to say.

 _After all,_ he thinks, _how do you say sorry for something you never did?_

It was a history so complicated and painful that whenever he thought about the anger on his friends’ and boyfriend’s faces (and the echoes of pain laying hidden underneath), his heart weighed a thousand times heavier for them- and yet, when he looked at Kageyama, he could wish him no harm, not when he’d seen him, vulnerable and avoiding eye contact with an awkward _thanks_ that, if anyone else, would never have meant as much as it did. 

“Yeah,” he says instead. “They have.”

There isn’t a point to lying or pretending- not when Shouyou himself can see the traces of their tips even in his posture alone, not when he knows the countless hours he’s spent, pushing himself harder and harder to be able to practice by their side. 

And if, sometimes, Shouyou wonders what they’ll do when he inevitably can’t catch up, when he falls away and crumbles into obscurity and wasted potential, then it isn’t Kageyama’s business in the slightest.

And if he knows they would leave him behind, it shouldn’t matter.

(And if it shouldn’t matter, maybe that’s why it does.)

Kageyama nods, and the shadows slip away. 

Then, Kageyama picks up the volleyball from where it had fell and tosses it up into the air- once and then twice, before he does a serve on his own with a deadly set to his eyes, a look of intense concentration Shouyou has only ever seen on Tooru when he does his killer jump serve.

Kageyama hits the ball- without even glancing towards it- after he tosses and leaps into the air.

Even as Shouyou feels like he should pout or complain about the _king_ , he can’t summon up a single thought- (other than that he thinks he understands why Kageyama sounded so angry when he told him he was originally going to come to Karasuno but couldn’t).

There’s something indescribable in Kageyama’s eyes- more than just the burning passion, like the one lighting a flame ablaze in Shouyou’s chest and echoed in Tooru’s own, but as if he could see the path before him laid out, as clear as the sky above them. As if he could see himself becoming a pro or going to the Olympics or being able to play volleyball for the rest of his life, believing it with every fiber of his body.

As if everything that Shouyou spent countless days and days worrying and thinking about was simply assured for him- or maybe, not even assured, but as if, for Kageyama, it was a fact itself that he would make it that far.

“Next Saturday,” Shouyou blurts out and then, when Kageyama whips around to look at him with a startled look, he hurriedly continues, “Every other Saturday, I mean!”

Strangely enough, Kageyama only smirks, nodding sharply, and there’s something burning in his eyes- and this time, Shouyou _knows_ it’s a challenge.

Even more strange is that it doesn’t scare him- not in the slightest. It doesn’t twist his stomach into knots or force bile to rise up in his throat, but instead, adrenaline thrums through his veins and-

Shouyou is _excited_. 

“Kageyama,” Shouyou says. “Set for me.”

Kageyama blinks, and then, “No.”

It shouldn’t really matter when Shouyou has the incredibly skilled, best server and setter ever as his boyfriend to set to him whenever he asks, but Shouyou still pouts. 

It could never be _bad_ to practice spiking (and how could it ever be, when it’s the best feeling he’s ever known?). 

“Why not!”

Kageyama casts him a long glance before turning away. “Get better at serving first.” 

Then, when Shouyou chases after the ball (because there is absolutely _no_ way he would ever let Kageyama hog the ball), he serves again.

But this time, when he takes a deep breath, he thinks of Tooru as he leapt into the air with as much grace and confidence as he did- a confidence one could only gain from practicing as hard and nonstop as one Oikawa Tooru did- and as he visualizes it, tries to see himself doing it, too. To have as much confidence as his boyfriend did, (and one day, he would rival Kageyama- he _had_ to).

It doesn’t work.

Not the first time and not even the second or third.

Each time, Shouyou’s eyes catch on the ball just a little too long and before he knows it, the ball has already left that perfect sweet spot and his serve turns a little more lackluster than it has any right to be. 

But after four failed tries and a lot of pouting while asking Kageyama to demonstrate his jump serve again, Kageyama’s pointed glare finally reaches its peak as he bonks him on the head, and he finally relents.

The only problem is that when _Kageyama_ does it, the ball is always right there when he hits it- meanwhile, when Shouyou tries, it falls short.

“How do you know it’ll be there?”

Kageyama glances at him. “Because it will.”

That isn’t very helpful, but Shouyou ignores the part of him that tells him to give in already and that he would never amount to anything, no matter how hard or long he tried- he always does.

Just believe it will be there.

It doesn’t work for the fifth time, and not the sixth or seventh, either.

But finally, when the traitorous breeze blows a leaf right near his eyes and he shuts his eyes instinctually, his hand hits the ball.

“Whoo!” Shouyou cheers himself on, since Tooru isn’t there to do it and Kageyama is definitely not going to. “Kageyama, did you see that? I went _gwah_ and the ball went _pow_ -”

Kageyama stares. “Your eyes weren’t open,” he points out, sounding more confused than he has any right to be, and Shouyou laughs a little and shrugs.

“I mean, I _was_ overthinking when my eyes were open!” Shouyou tells him, and when Kageyama doesn’t look any less confused, just waves it off and continues practicing at his serves with ten times the intensity he usually has.

If he gets better at serving, Kageyama will serve to him and then, he can practice spiking even more!

“See you in two weeks,” Kageyama says as he turns and walks away, still with that same, small smirk- but from the angle Shouyou’s at, it almost feels like a smile.

“See you then!” Shouyou shouts back with a grin.

Maybe it’s a little louder than he should be, but when volleyball thrums in his veins and he’s made a new friend-rival, it doesn’t feel so bad to be as excited as he is.

It’s then, as Shouyou exits the park with his stupid, volleyball-caused grin, that he freezes.

 _Oh_ , he thinks.

And suddenly, he doesn’t feel very excited at all.

Shouyou stumbles back- back into the park, familiar and safe and nothing like the unknown beyond. 

His heart thuds, beat by beat, blood pumping in his ears louder and louder until he can hear nothing else, can _think_ nothing else.

Something drops with a heavy thud onto the ground and he picks it up, even as his fingers tremble and his mind blanks, and he opens the texts of the last person he’d talked to and types out a message, painfully slow.

_help, park, near karasuno, people here, can’t talk to them, they’ll know and they’ll hate me_

He falls against the tree and tries to focus on the swirls of his fingerprints, the whisper of the breeze against his face, and the bark of the hard tree trunk behind him grating into his back.

 _Focus_ , he thinks (and pleads), but all he can think is _they’re here, they’re here, they’re here-_

“Hinata?”

Shouyou glances up, and to his endless relief, there stands a concerned Yamaguchi- alongside, surprisingly enough, Tsukishima.

He stumbles up and tries to smile- Yamaguchi doesn’t look any less worried and even Tsukishima’s stare is a little less pointed than it usually would be, though.

“That’s me,” Shouyou says. “I think.”

Yamaguchi nods, slowly, as if trying not to spook him and gives him an encouraging smile. “We’ll walk you to the train station, okay? I can come with you if you want.”

While Shouyou is trying to figure out how to refuse in the nicest way possible, Tsukishima glances at him with a sharp gaze, and just as he thinks he’s saved, Tsukishima looks away again. “ _We_ , Yamaguchi,” he corrects, instead.

Yamaguchi’s casual, comfortable apology is drowned out.

“No!” And then, because they’re both staring at him as he trembles, he smiles again, and tells them, “You don’t have to do anything like that- not for someone like me.”

Yamaguchi frowns, even as Tsukishima scowls and glares fiercely at the ground without saying a single word. 

“You’re our friend, Hinata,” Yamaguchi responds, as if it’s that simple, with a reassuring smile and with all the caution he can muster, Shouyou nods, slow and careful and unsure. 

The word friend never fails to taste sweet on the tip of his tongue. Shouyou doesn’t really know what he’s done to deserve the incredible friends he has, but he thinks he’ll treasure them nonetheless. _Friend_ , he thinks, smiling at each one that comes to mind- and it’s like his mother was never even there. 

When he follows close behind Yamaguchi and Tsukishima outside the park, he glances towards the right, even when he knows he shouldn’t, and when his heart drops and his hand clings to Tsukishima’s jacket, Tsukishima doesn’t say anything. He shifts as if stretching to yawn but thankfully, what Shouyou’s gaze had been trapped on is now blocked from view and he forces himself to relax.

He’s safe and those days are over and will never return.

“Shou-chan?”

Shouyou freezes. He glances back.

(He was always weak, a heart weighed by regret and a thousand thoughts of how he should’ve done better.)

He already knows who he’ll see.

It doesn’t stop it from hurting.

“Izumi, Kouji,” Shouyou greets, as quietly and plainly as he can- if he doesn’t, he knows that every last drop of remorse he’s kept locked inside will finally be let out, and then, he will be ruined.

Izumi flinches a little when Shouyou doesn’t call him by their nickname but the thought of it leaves him feeling heavy and lost and wondering where it had all gone wrong (even as he knew the exact moment it did).

“It’s been a while,” Kouji cuts in, his gaze searching Shouyou as if to see if his mother had left any marks- there wouldn’t be any, there never was, but he never stopped looking since that day, anyways.

Shouyou nods. 

He can’t bring himself to say the words aloud, not when he knew that their severed friendship was his own fault.

But when the silence lingers, he stares at the ground and each speck of gravel in the pavement, so tiny and miniscule and _worthless_ -

“Yeah,” Shouyou echoes. “It has.”

Maybe it’s how tiny his voice sounds or maybe it’s how his vision is blurring and turning everything to a meaningless sludge, but the next second, Tsukishima has cut in front of him, his sharp tongue already lashing out- for once, in defense of a friend, rather than an offense. Even when he knows he should tell him to stop, that it wasn’t his middle school (ex-)friends’ fault, the words stay trapped inside and through the pain and the aching and the regret, he can’t bring himself to say a single thing.

Yamaguchi tugs him away a few steps. And then, as Tsukishima catches up, they leave the way they had been going.

He knows he shouldn’t- and maybe that’s why he does.

Shouyou glances back.

(He shouldn’t have.)

Izumi and Kouji are still staring after him, an endless question of _why_ lurking behind their eyes- pain and aching and regret. 

But they didn’t know, they _couldn’t_ know- if they knew he wasn’t normal, that his own mother didn’t even love him, they would finally put everything together and realize why he’d drifted away from them- they would realize it wasn’t their fault, but Shouyou’s. And then, they would hate him and despise him and realize he was _worthless_ , just like his mother did, and the worst part is, he wouldn’t even be able to blame them-

Shouyou glances away and he tries to pretend it was the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	16. The Familiar Comfort, the Familiar Pain

“I’ll be okay!” Shouyou tries to convince- Yamaguchi gives him a small smile, and just as Shouyou breathes a silent sigh of relief that at least _one_ of his friends was sane and willing to respond to reason, Yamaguchi just shakes his head. “Really! I will!”

Tsukishima snorts. “Right, that was the same thing you said during your _last_ panic attack, and-”

Shouyou blinks. 

Panic attack?

“I’ve never had a panic attack,” Shouyou says instead.

Tsukishima coughs into his hand, but it’s very clear he was hiding a small laugh- when Shouyou stares, not comprehending, the smile falls away. “You can’t be serious.”

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi hisses under his breath, but as they draw closer to the train station, he pauses and waves Tsukishima to go on.

Then, Yamaguchi glances at him. “Hinata, do you know what a panic attack is?”

The question makes him pout- of _course_ he did! Back in middle school-

“Yeah,” Shouyou says. “I do!”

Yamaguchi squints a little, as if he didn’t know where to go from there (to be fair, it’s not exactly like Shouyou does either). He looks at the train station in front of them, then Shouyou himself, before finally staring down at the ground before them.

“When I have a panic attack,” Yamaguchi begins, and Shouyou’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ before he nods and resolves to pay as much attention as he can, forcing his wandering mind to stay still. “I feel like I can’t breathe. Like the entire world is crushing me.”

“Huh. That’s not how I-” Shouyou stops. “I mean. I don’t have them, but if I did-”

“Is there any reason you think you don’t have them?” Yamaguchi asks, and there’s something about the look in his eyes that tells him he already knows what Shouyou is going to say, as if he didn’t want to ask, to know for _sure_ , but he already suspected.

“No,” Shouyou lies, and it feels like acid bubbling in his stomach-

He thinks about his mother. How nothing he ever did was enough, their bond straining and straining, a fraying strand still unsevered from his own weakness, her gaze darkening further and further as each year passed- until one day, her patience ran out and her love was not enough. 

(Maybe the worst part was how easy it was for her to not love him.)

Yamaguchi stares at him for a second more, his lips set in an absentminded frown.

“You’re allowed to have emotions,” Yamaguchi tells him, with a determined glint to his eyes- as if he had clawed his way to learning the words he spoke until he had finally felt that they were the absolute truth. “You’re allowed to cry or be upset or panic- you’re allowed to be _human_.”

Shouyou stares and stares and stares- what Yamaguchi is saying is impossible.

After an entire childhood of never being loved, of being pushed away every time he cried or panicked, how was he ever supposed to feel like he wasn’t a freak?

(When Natsu had cried, his mother always tugged her into a embrace- one that seemed _so_ gentle- but then again, he would never be able to know if her touch could ever be so soft when it only brought pain for him instead.)

“About earlier,” Shouyou says, just as Yamaguchi turns away. “It was my mom.”

Yamaguchi pauses. He doesn’t look back. “Yeah. I know.”

As they enter the train station, Shouyou’s mind is still whirling with thoughts (if his mother didn’t love him, but his friends did, did it all cancel out?), when a flash of a familiar jacket catches his eye and he can’t help but brighten. 

“Tooru!” Shouyou grins and launches himself into his boyfriend’s waiting arms, who spins him around with soft laughter like twinkling bells. 

“Shou-chan!” Tooru greets him back with a wide grin when he finally lets Shouyou down, and then glances toward his right. “I met the infamous Shimashima!”

Shouyou glances where Tooru did and is faced with a glaring Tsukishima. “Don’t call me that,” Tsukishima says, a little more threateningly than Shouyou would prefer.

“Okay,” Tooru agrees, but the shit-eating grin he’s wearing says otherwise, “Tsukki!”

Right before Tsukishima can lunge at Shouyou’s terrible, bastard boyfriend, Yamaguchi drags him back, and with a smile, waves, just as the train begins to pull in. “We’ll see you next weekend for our Jurassic Park movie marathon, Hinata!”

“Three-day sleepover!” Shouyou cheers and can’t help but grin back- even grumpy Tsukishima has a tiny smile from both Shouyou and Yamaguchi’s enthusiasm.

Then, Tooru tugs him onto the train just as the doors finally slide shut, scanning through the mostly empty train- for a moment, as Tooru leads him to two empty seats right besides each other, Shouyou lets himself smile, feeling like nothing could ever go wrong again, with his boyfriend’s hand steady in his own and the memories of his friends’ smiles clear in his mind.

But the moment passes and his smile falls.

“You didn’t have to come!” Shouyou blurts out as they take their seats and Tooru glances at him with slight confusion.

“I know,” Tooru says, and when he reaches for Shouyou’s hand, he smiles. “I wanted to.”

And then, very carefully, even as his heart thumps, Shouyou lets his head rest against Tooru’s shoulder, with a small smile of his own. 

“Besides! Turns out it was good I came, since I heard my poor Shou-chan seemed to have a bit of a rough day,” Tooru continues, and Shouyou pouts but it isn’t exactly like he was _wrong_.

“Maybe?” Shouyou says. “Just a bit.”

Seeing his former middle school friends had been a terrible flash to the past- days he would rather forget and never think of again. Back when he was a disaster, lashing out at everyone who was foolish enough to come close (and foolish enough to think he was worth saving). 

“If _Tobio_ did anything to you-”

“No!” Shouyou rushes, and it’s only as he continues, that Tooru finally relaxes. “He was okay, actually. A bit of a dick but just the normal Kageyama levels!”

Tooru pauses. “You’re sure?”

Shouyou nods vigorously, and luckily, Tooru seems to believe him. 

The rest of the train ride is spent in a comfortable banter, Tooru rambling about the latest hijinks he and his friends have gotten up to (apparently, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had a water fight in their classroom during lunch and nearly got _suspended_ ) and Shouyou listening along and nodding and laughing and feeling so, so lucky. 

When Shouyou tells him about the developing thoughts he’d had on volleyball while practicing with Kageyama, Tooru doesn’t ever tell him to stop talking or even appear like he’s anything less than 100% interested. His gaze doesn’t drift away and his eyes don’t glaze over-

Tooru is nothing like Shouyou’s mother.

As the train finally pulls to their stop, Shouyou can’t help but pout and wish it could’ve been longer.

All too soon, they reach Shouyou’s mother’s apartment, and they part ways with fond, soft smiles and promises to text as soon as Tooru got home (they used to text immediately nonstop but after one too many times where they walked into telephone poles or tripped over rocks, they resolved to stop- although, when Shouyou says _they_ , he really means himself). 

Shouyou really is lucky to have such a great boyfriend and friends, even if a few of them were currently-

Shouyou stops.

Even if one of them was currently in the lobby of his mother’s apartment. 

“Hinata,” he greets, his usually apathetic voice determined. “Funny seeing you here.”

Shouyou laughs a little from how bizarre this feels and how if he doesn’t laugh, he might just overthink himself into a panic attack. “Kunimi! You’re here!”

Kunimi nods. “I checked at your apartment first but you weren’t there.”

Shouyou nods right back. “Yeah, I was practicing with-”

Then, it hits him. _That’s_ why Kunimi looks so tired, even more so than he did on days when he had gamed and stayed up all night- as if the tiredness wasn’t something he could sleep away but something that dragged him down with each step he took. 

“You met my mother,” Shouyou realizes, and when Kunimi doesn’t do anything to indicate otherwise, his heart sinks. “I’m sorry.”

Kunimi scoffs, “It’s not your fault she’s a piece of shit.”

Shouyou chokes a little from the words, but he doesn’t really know how to protest with an argument more substantial than just _no_. “You’re okay?” he asks instead, and when Kunimi nods, breathes a silent sigh of relief that the only one his mother has hurt was him.

“Anyways,” Kunimi continues. “I’ve devised a plan.”

Kunimi whips out a black notebook from his backpack, which has the tiny label of _math_ on the cover, and flips through the mostly blank pages (there are, admittedly, more than a few volleyballs that Shouyou has scribbled in) until there’s a detailed schedule and shows it to him.

Shouyou stares. 

“What is this?” Shouyou asks, even as the realization creeps up on him, an unsteadying rush of what he couldn’t tell was gratitude or frustration.

“Kindaichi and I tried to figure out where you’d stay for the next couple of months,” Kunimi says, and looks away, blank expression never changing. “We probably missed some stuff.”

“This is…” Shouyou trails off- what can he even say, other than that his friends have spent too much time on someone they shouldn’t have? “Sweet,” he decides upon, and because the spark of hope is lit behind Kunimi’s eyes and because it hurts him to pretend, “But I can’t.”

“You can.” 

And there’s something about the way he says it, as if it burned him to say the words but he said them nonetheless- something that makes Shouyou pause and, worse, actually consider the thought.

“You don’t have to live at my place,” Kunimi says. “You don’t have to never come back here- to your _mother_ \- again.”

Shouyou almost smiles- it’s clear Kunimi wishes he never had to come back and, honestly, deep down, he wishes he didn’t either- that he could live at Kunimi’s forever and ever without a single question from his parents and live happily ever after, his mother the furthest thought from his mind. That he could actually be part of a family.

Kunimi turns away, face drawn in immeasurable disappointment and yet resigned, as if he had never even expected to convince Shouyou.

“Wait,” Shouyou says, and at the cautious gaze he gets in response, he coughs and looks away. “I think I can probably convince Kenma and Kuroo for a few more sleepovers than usual. And Yamaguchi and Tsukishima probably won’t mind if I stay over on Mondays?”

Then, a small smile spreads across his friend’s face until he’s nearly beaming and before Shouyou can even smile back, he tackles him in a hug.

“Kunimi-” Shouyou laughs a little from how strange it all feels, from the idea that someone would ever put this much thought and care into something for someone like him, but more importantly than any of that, he feels happy- somehow, he feels _loved_. “Akira, please, you’re crushing me-”

Akira shoves himself right back off, still smiling as if he had never expected anything quite like this, even as his face was reddened and he wouldn’t quite meet Shouyou’s gaze head-on. “Then die, dumbass,” he grumbles, but there’s still something soft to his voice, quiet and pleased.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Akira tells him, eyes narrowed in determination. “No matter what.”

Shouyou softens, even as he knows he’ll return to his mother in just a few minutes and have to face the unnerving silence of his apartment- somehow, he thinks he’ll be okay.

“Okay,” Shouyou says, and oddly enough, “I trust you.”

Akira nods, resolute and determined and a beacon of strength, and even though Shouyou doesn’t need him to, and even though Shouyou doesn’t deserve it, he smiles, and tells him, soft but certain underneath the flickering lights, “I trust you, too.”

And just as Shouyou smiles back, he stops.

There stands his mother across the lobby of the apartment, in all of her glory and all of her pain, a deathly angel long fallen from grace.

Rather than her usually disinterested gaze, something lays behind her eyes, burning, instead- something that promises pain.

“We need to go,” Shouyou blurts out in a hushed whisper- at least, he thinks he does, everything is turning muddled and darkening before his eyes and he doesn’t even know if he can remember where he is, let alone if the words that have burnt his throat countless times have finally been spoken-

But before he can even take a trembling step backwards, his mother is already right in front of him, blocking his last hope from view. 

“Oh, Shouyou,” she says. “I think we have _a lot_ to talk about.”

Then, tightly gripping his wrist with a fierceness that leaves him numb in all his terror (and how is it that one look, one touch, was enough to make him fall apart?), his mother drags him away, and all Shouyou can think is he wishes he knew what he did wrong this time.

“Let him go,” Akira says, quietly, and something is alight in his eyes, _burning_ -

Shouyou’s mother doesn’t turn back. Her gaze shifts towards Shouyou, and with a smile, sending a jolt of terror up his spine, “What happens behind closed doors is none of your business.”

As a child, Shouyou had yearned so longingly for his mother to finally smile at him- each time she had smiled down at Natsu, a bitter needle stung his heart time and time again until all that was left was tainted, until he thought he could never love again, endlessly wishing for the love he should’ve known he didn’t deserve. He had thought that if, at least once, she smiled at him, maybe he was finally doing something right.

As a child, he knew nothing of what was to come.

“Monster,” Akira hisses under his breath, so quietly Shouyou had to strain to hear- but from how his mother’s grip tightens and tightens until his wrist trembles from the force, Shouyou doesn’t have to wonder if she heard.

(Maybe the worst part isn’t even that it doesn’t hurt, _yet_ \- but that he knows it will.)

Shouyou’s mother steps into the elevator. With a sharp tug, she yanks him in too before he can even think of running away, and then lets go as if his touch was the one that burned her instead, her disgust clear.

And as the elevator doors slide shut, Shouyou tears his gaze away from Akira- the fury burning in his eyes and his clenched fists and broken hopes.

 _I’m sorry_ , he mouths, and he isn’t even sure what for.

At the very least, Shouyou’s mother waits until they enter her apartment and the door clicks shut behind them, to finally turn to face Shouyou, and the traces of that one night embolden at last, the disdain dragging down each of her exhausted features until they twisted and warped into someone, _something_ utterly unrecognizable in her hatred.

Before, he would’ve worried, would’ve hoped she was getting enough sleep between each of her shifts and wasn’t overworking herself too much- torn between worry and an unnamed resentment, lurking underneath for years and years, until he finally realized what everyone around him had long seen. 

But now, there is nothing, only fear, creeping up his spine and its clammy grip tightening around his heart and squeezing and _squeezing_ until each breath shuddered from the force-

“I should’ve known,” and each poisonous word she speaks drips with condescension, as if she didn’t think Shouyou was even worthy of her hatred, “that you would go running and crying to your pathetic friends.”

The injustice of it all forces a tremble into his voice but Shouyou glares nonetheless- she can insult him all she likes, she wouldn’t even be wrong, but, “My friends are the kindest, best people I’ve ever met! Without them, I wouldn’t be half the person I was today.”

“Oh, really?” Shouyou’s mother says, a tinge of mockery lurking underneath her voice. “You’re sure that little, crybaby Shouyou is all grown up?”

She stalks forward a single step.

When Shouyou flinches, terror roaring in his ears, and trips over himself as he stumbles away, she stops, and then, smiles, as if the sight of his fear was amusing- 

As if that was all that she had wanted.

Then, so quick the shift gives him whiplash, ice-cold water prickling in his veins, her tone deepens, darkening, as if twisting around her son’s emotions had been mere child’s play- as if it had been only a game. “If you ever speak of me to anyone and dare jeopardize my job ever again, I _will_ find out.”

“And,” she tells him, each word slow and careful and measured, her gaze deadly with its precision- in the distant cracks between each word, desperation seeps through, cracked and raw. “You _will_ be sorry.”

Shouyou stares, mind blank- all he can think about is the particular way she glares down at him, as if he was but a tiny speck of gravel in the pavement, as if he didn’t even deserve a single second of her time. 

His wrist aches, and, it’s almost like he’s all the way back to that night- but worse, this is an entirely new memory, and now, he has a reason to despise clear days as much as he did thunderstorms (and even as he knows he should wish for something else, the only thing he can wish for is that no more weather will ever be ruined for him ever again, tainted with the fractured remnants of a never-ending terror).

But no matter how much Shouyou thinks of anything else or tries to summon up the memories of his friends’ smiles and his boyfriend’s hand in his own as armor to keep him shielded from the monster before him, nothing comes to mind.

Fingertips numb, Shouyou stares up and up to the mockery of a mother’s face. A mask ripped and torn to reveal what was underneath all along, lurking just beneath every faked smile or disinterested gaze.

 _Monster_ , he thinks, and it’s taken him years, but finally, he thinks he might be right- that what Akira has been telling him over and over was right all along.

The disinterested glint to her gaze sets back in- cool and detached and analyzing every aspect of his weakness- before the smile slips away (each of her true feelings towards her son hidden away- beneath crumbling walls of a careful indifference) and the mask slips back on (a normal mother, a normal son- but only when not behind closed doors).

“Go,” she says. “And _run_.”

 _Monster_ , he thinks- and he knows he’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering how Kunimi's first meeting with Shouyou's mother went, this small snippet popped into my mind (it was initially placed right before the line where Kunimi tells Shouyou he's devised a plan!!):
> 
> (What Kunimi doesn’t tell him is that from the instant he brought up Shouyou’s name, his mother looked ten times more disinterested, that she had almost closed the door in his face. When he asked her if she knew where he’d been back when he’d ran away to stay at Kunimi’s place for nearly a week, she only blinked, and with a smile, a little too cruel to be true, said she hadn’t even realized he was missing.)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	17. Behind Closed Doors

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou says as soon as he arrives, the words practiced and yet numb on his tongue. For them, it’d only been a few hours ago that they’d seen him off with Tooru at the train station- for them, nothing had changed. “I didn’t know where else I could go.”

Yamaguchi blinks but steps aside regardless, tugging Shouyou and leading him into the living room as Tsukishima locks the door behind them with an unsettling click.

(The click of a door as it shut, the sound of a mask as it fell-)

“I didn’t want to bother Kenma again but,” Shouyou rambles instead, the words tripping as they fell from his mouth before his jaw clicks shut as he realizes- “I’m bothering _you_ now, too.”

“Hinata,” Yamaguchi says, soft and reassuring as he plops Shouyou down onto the couch, “you’re our friend, remember?”

Shouyou nods, even as his thoughts all feel disorganized and scrambled and overlapping (and then, everything was ruined- and then, and then-). “She knows where Kenma lives. If she came and saw and _heard_ , she would-”

“She would what?” Tsukishima asks, clipped and cold, his fury evident, and it’s only then, that through the incoherent fragments of his mind, he realizes he’s doing exactly what his mother told him _not_ to do.

“Nothing!” Shouyou blurts out. “She’s never done anything bad to me!”

Yamaguchi’s soft gaze grows harsh before he sighs and settles down besides him, gently placing a tiny dinosaur plush onto Shouyou’s lap. “I think we all know she has.”

Tsukishima scowls but he takes a seat next to Shouyou too. “Even from the little I’ve seen, she seems like a…” he trails off, as if he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and hurt his friend like he did once before- but this time, Shouyou agrees.

( _Monster_ , he thinks- and he knows he’s right.)

“Monster,” he echoes. “Yeah.”

Shouyou shakes his head (his mother warned him to never speak of her again to his friends- she _will_ find out and he _will_ be sorry and- and yet, he’s already failed miserably), smiling down at the fluffy little dinosaur plushie.

“Shimashima,” he starts, despite the numbness in his fingertips and the sharp vines of terror entangling his heart in a death grip. And if, from the beginnings of Yamaguchi’s muffled laughter and Tsukishima’s glare (which is ridiculously ineffective given how he and Yamaguchi are wearing _matching_ _dinosaur_ pajamas), he feels a little less lost and a little less numb, then no one has to know. “I don’t suppose you have another pair of dinosaur pajamas?”

Tsukishima huffs and stomps away upstairs- before Shouyou can even think about pouting, he returns just a moment later and tosses a stack of too-large dinosaur pajamas onto the couch.

“Here,” Tsukishima smirks as he stares down and down at Shouyou, (if only for a moment, did his friend and his mother share the same view?). “Suffer.”

Shouyou stares for a second before he remembers how he’s supposed to act, the role he’s supposed to play- “Joke’s on you, I _like_ big clothes!” Shouyou sticks his tongue out.

“Oh,” Yamaguchi asks, a little too innocent to be anything other than teasing, “and why is that?”

(It’s because it reminds him of Tooru’s jacket, large and warm and safe.)

The pout and reaction comes a little easier this time, as if Shouyou is finally settling back into an unfamiliar skin, but when he opens his mouth, he can’t think of a single thing to say. And so, he picks up his well-earned matching, dinosaur pajamas, along with the tiny dinosaur plushie to guard him on his journey, and leaves to change in the bathroom.

The top, which has a huge, goofy-looking dinosaur in the center, slips off his shoulder, over and over, no matter how many times he shoves it back up. And the only saving grace of the sweatpants, which has an alternating pattern of a tiny dinosaur and _roar_ , are the drawstrings that keep them from falling off entirely.

Shouyou looks ridiculous. 

And yet, somehow, there’s nothing he would rather wear.

When Shouyou returns, the television is flickering for the briefest of moments before it, with incredible timing, begins Jurassic Park. 

Yamaguchi grins when he sees him and Tsukishima snorts, turning away as if to hide his obvious amusement, but Shouyou only does his best to smile back- he wonders if he should leave, but he doesn’t even know where he would go. 

His mother had Kenma’s address from the few times he had texted it to her, blindly ignorant- (he knew nothing of what was to come). And the thought of spending the night with anyone who knew anything of his mother leaves him numb and aching, although-

Although, that does remind him of Akira- as discreetly as he can, Shouyou wiggles his phone out of his pocket.

 **Kunimi:** Are you okay? I’m sorry. 

Shouyou stares for a moment. 

_You don’t have anything to apologize for,,,? I’m really sorry you had to meet my mom, she’s- she can be a lot, haha… I’m okay!! I’m at a friend’s place. You’re also okay, right??_

**Kunimi:** I failed you. I should’ve done something. 

_It’s okay!! She’s…_

Shouyou stops.

_It’s okay. I promise._

A long moment passes- Shouyou glances away from his darkening phone screen and brightens when there’s a huge bowl of popcorn that he hadn’t noticed before, laying temptingly on Yamaguchi’s lap, and he shoves a few handfuls in his mouth all at once.

Shouyou’s phone screen lights up.

 **Kunimi:** You’re coming over once the weekend is done.

And just as Shouyou sharply inhales, wondering how he’s going to convince Akira otherwise, how he’s going to convince _himself_ -

 **Kunimi:** Please.

With a sigh, wondering when he had gotten so weak, Shouyou sends an affirmative text back, before shoving it back into his pocket and resolving to not look at it for the rest of the night.

And then, after what feels like only minutes, Shouyou glances outside the window.

Against the endless abyss of pitch black, the crescent moon has already begun its descent as it glows from far, far above.

“Hey, Shimashima,” Shouyou whispers, as quietly as he can- Yamaguchi is absolutely conked out, his head craning down at what looked like an uncomfortable angle to lean on Shouyou’s shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

Tsukishima, whose gaze has been glued on the TV the entire time, glances away. “Depends,” he says. “How stupid of a question is it?”

Despite how Shouyou _knows_ Tsukishima in all of his grumpiness, even after what’s only been a few weeks, the words still shrivel up in his throat- and despite how the thought of returning to his mother so soon leaves his fingertips numb and acid bubbling in his stomach, it _was_ stupid to ask if he could stay, not when they owed him nothing.

Tsukishima pauses the movie. “Nevermind. I am now taking all questions.”

Slumping a little from the relief, Shouyou smiles, “I was wondering… if I could, uh,” Shouyou gestures wildly and hopes Tsukishima understands, “on Mondays? So I don’t have to go back to…”

Tsukishima wrinkles his nose, “Your mom?” When Shouyou nods as a confirmation, Tsukishima makes a small sound of disgust. “Ugh. Yeah, sure.”

Then, as Tsukishima drags himself off the couch and plods away towards the dim light of the kitchen around the corner, Shouyou follows, trying his best to roll up the sleeves on his pajamas as they continuously fall past his hands- he isn’t sure what he’s going to say, or what he’s even _allowed_ to say, but taking advantage of his friend’s hospitality leaves a bitter taste in his mouth (and the thought that, maybe, he would be just as bad as her).

Tsukishima takes one glance at him in the light of the kitchen and muffles what might be a laugh as he stretches up to retrieve a packet from a cabinet high up. “Here, Hinata,” he says, throwing him the packet, “hot chocolate! Maybe the milk in it will help you finally grow.”

Shouyou huffs but he takes it regardless- only a fool would ever turn down hot chocolate. 

Then, fiddling with his fingers, Shouyou asks, “Marshmallows? Please?”

This time, Tsukishima is definitely laughing- even as Shouyou tries to glare, he can’t help but smile back, the sound of his friend’s laughter the perfect way to forget the rest of the day’s events. 

Still, Tsukishima digs further into the cabinet and then tosses him a huge bag of jumbo marshmallows. “Courtesy of Yamaguchi,” he explains, with a little bow and smirk- Shouyou rolls his eyes. At least he has _one_ friend who truly appreciates the comfort and warmth of a good hot chocolate.

“I have to tell you something,” Shouyou blurts out before he can stop himself- how many times, he wonders, will he have to tell a friend his mother hit him? “About my mom.”

The smirk drops from Tsukishima’s face and he settles against the counter, gesturing as if to say, _go for it_.

“But,” Shouyou admits, “I shouldn’t.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

Beginning the long task of making his own hot chocolate, Shouyou glances away from Tsukishima’s all-too-knowing stare- all he had seen was one phone call, and yet, the Tsukishima then had realized what Shouyou would only come to see an entire week later. 

“Someone might have told me not to,” he tells Tsukishima, who scowls with enough intensity for Shouyou to see that he’s definitely guessed who the someone is. “And it might be bad for me if they find out I did.”

“Well,” Tsukishima begins. “Unless they’ve bugged every single home of each person you’ve ever interacted with, I think your mother- oh, my apologies, _they_ will find that they will be unable to track each and every word you say, behind closed doors.”

Shouyou blinks- he… hadn’t realized it was that simple.

“Just like that?” he asks instead.

The cruelty on Tsukishima’s face softens and he glances away, looking far more tired and sad than Shouyou ever wishes his friend would be. “Yeah,” he says. “Just like that.” 

Shouyou’s mother told him not to talk to her to anyone else, but at the same time, something inside him felt just as monstrous and cruel as her- something inside him wanted his friends to hate his mother just as much as he did, a bitter, aching, poisonous hatred consuming his every thought.

It felt impossible to even think of going against his mother’s commands, and yet, something in him stirs, fierce and unflinching, something that tells him, _you deserve to be loved_. Shouyou has been assured he’s enough time and time again, and by now, letting just one person stand in his way- regardless of how terrifying they were- feels an awful lot like backing away from a challenge.

It feels an awful lot like giving up.

 _Threaten me, hit me, do whatever twisted thing comes to your mind_ , he thinks, perhaps a little more cruelly than he would ever voice out loud, _but no matter how many times you push me down- I will always get back up._

Shouyou grits his teeth.

And he defies the laws of the universe.

“She hit me,” Shouyou says. “She threatened me. She said if I told anyone what she did to me, she would hurt me.”

And then, “I don’t care.”

Maybe the terror would never fade.

Maybe, that would be for good reason, because she would always be lurking, just a few steps behind, waiting for the perfect time to strike and make him crumble to pieces.

But after so many times of being told that he’s worth it and good enough and that his _mother_ was to blame and not him, he’s starting to think that maybe, they might be right, that maybe, he can let himself believe them-

And Shouyou isn’t alone.

Tsukishima nods, slowly. “If I ever see her,” he says, and smiles back, and there’s something cruel to his words too- something cruel that makes the viciously angry part in Shouyou finally fade away, now that it knows it isn’t alone, “I’ll let her know _exactly_ what I think of a woman so pathetic to hurt her own child.”

After a brief moment where Tsukishima glances over at him, a relieved tinge setting into his smile when he sees that Shouyou doesn’t seem wary or afraid or unsure, he heads back to the TV and resumes the movie. 

Following close behind, Shouyou chugs his entire mug of hot chocolate (yes, it burns- yes, he _is_ a dumbass) and holds the bag of jumbo marshmallows close after stuffing four into his mouth. Then, he carefully lets Yamaguchi’s head drop back onto his shoulder with a small, fond smile as he puts his empty mug on the coffee table in front of them.

When Tsukishima falls asleep just a few minutes later, quietly snoring away as his head leans on top of Shouyou’s, ridiculously slumped over, no one has to know if Shouyou stifles a laugh at his absurdly tall friends leaning against _him_ as they slept.

And if Shouyou falls asleep with a smile on his face, no one has to know that either.

If he rises with the echoes of happiness tugging on his lips, then, he thinks he deserves it. _Just one, brief moment,_ he thinks- _please,_ and he sinks back besides his friends and lets his eyes close for just a moment.

And so, Shouyou doesn’t wake up alone amidst a deadened silence, as it has been for so long, but to the sound of rustling blankets and sharp elbows and pained groans. And if he smiles, small but true, then neither Tsukishima or Yamaguchi ask why.

Tsukishima stumbles away to the kitchen, grumbling all the way about Yamaguchi’s bony elbows and Shouyou’s offensively short stature- all of which were _his_ words, not Shouyou’s- until he can hear the rush of water flowing and the clang of a heavy pot being put on the stove.

(And for a moment, if he closes his eyes, he _could_ smile, thinking about back when he pretended his mother’s faked love was enough- but, instead, he keeps his eyes open, thinking about how much he loves his friends and how lucky he feels to be able to just exist in such a simple moment so full of care, and, oddly enough, a smile still comes).

A moment later, Yamaguchi brushes past Shouyou with a huge yawn and a soft smile- even if he just woke up, even if he would have no reason or coherence in his mind to convince him to smile at him. He smiles at him, and it's genuine and true and it's as if, just by existing, Shouyou is doing something right.

Tsukishima glares at Shouyou when he leaves the kitchen- although, from the way he _also_ glares at Yamaguchi, Shouyou thinks it’s more of a morning, grumpy Tsukishima thing. Then, he shoves a steaming mug of hot chocolate at Shouyou, filled to the brim with last night’s jumbo marshmallows, and a matching one for Yamaguchi. 

When Yamaguchi chirps out a _thanks, Tsukki_ , he only grumbles something under his breath and turns away- only to look back when Shouyou is still staring to roll his eyes and shove the mug even closer. 

“Idiot,” Tsukishima says, but a tiny smile spreads when Shouyou finally takes the mug, reveling in the warmth as his hands curl against the mug. 

It’s almost too hot, but not quite- just at the edge of burning, but maybe, it was a _good_ burning.

 _Burn away the old_ , Shouyou thinks, and when he sips at his hot chocolate, the way it scalds his tongue brings a smile to his face, _to make room for the new._

Unlike last night, when the terror had faded underneath his rage (and the betrayal- _I trusted you, over and over, and you never even noticed_ ), the fear rises as easily as it did every other time- choking his throat with burnt ashes but not burning anymore.

(And maybe, it wasn’t enough, and maybe, it felt like nothing, but it _wasn’t_ \- and maybe, that was the most important part.)

The rest of the day passes far too quickly for Shouyou’s own liking- Yamaguchi reminds him that Shouyou’d told him about an upcoming math test (a fatal error he would be sure to never repeat) and the three end up awkwardly curled on Tsukishima’s bed, struggling to fit.

But he and Tsukishima actually do help him study (although, not without more than a few of the Tsukishima hit classics _dumbass_ and _idiot_ \- but also, the new addition of _do… you even have a brain, Hinata?_ ). 

In the middle of the study session (or rather, the thinly disguised excuse to tease and bully Shouyou that did _just_ enough to make him feel like he was learning so he wouldn’t be entirely uncooperative), Shouyou blurts out a question on one of the random names of the dinosaur diagrams posted on Tsukishima’s wall.

And, although Shouyou knows that Tsukishima _definitely_ wasn’t completely unaware of his trap, he still smirks and begins a long-winded lecture on not only the dinosaur (along with its Latin name- which is _wild_ , because Shouyou hadn’t realized humans had been alive to name dinosaurs!) but the entire period of time it had come from. 

(As much as Shouyou pretends to be bored, there’s a passion finally lit behind Tsukishima’s eyes and a smile laying unconcealed on his face, and as much as the history lesson is completely _not_ Shouyou’s thing, he can’t help but pay attention and smile the whole time anyways.)

Then, when Tsukishima is finally coming to a close on his dinosaur lecture, the doorbell rings, once and then twice.

“I have to go,” Shouyou apologizes- as much as a part of him wishes he could stay, he can’t. “Sorry.”

And just as Shouyou turns away, Yamaguchi’s voice stops him, quiet and carefully blank. “Have to go where?”

Shouyou stops.

Glancing back, the words fall away when he meets Yamaguchi’s gaze- and he remembers, that just because Yamaguchi didn’t have compassion for miles and miles on end, didn’t mean he didn’t get angry too.

Shouyou glances away-

His friends won’t hurt him. 

They won’t. 

So why does their anger make him want to spill a hundred, meaningless apologies in the slightest hope they might forgive him- why does it make him feel as though he's falling apart all over again before a mocking, twisted laugh?

His friends won’t hurt him.

They’re not his mother.

“Friend,” Shouyou says, instead, even as he feels like he’s choking on ashes from centuries and centuries past. “Not her.”

When Yamaguchi nods, uncertain, and opens his mouth as if to ask something else, Tsukishima coughs, a little louder than what seems normal. “I can tell him?” Tsukishima asks casually, and when Shouyou takes a second to consider it and then nods, he nods back.

“Thank you!” Shouyou blurts out. “For letting me stay over!”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but he tosses a small keychain at him. “Idiot.”

Shouyou nods and, before he can be more of a socially awkward mess, slips the keychain into one of his uniform’s pockets, and scrambles downstairs before slipping through the door.

“Akira!” Shouyou beams and when Akira glances him over as if to make sure he was okay, the guilt festering inside him worsens from the familiarity of the action.

(They weren’t to blame, they didn’t know what was going to happen. But if they weren’t at fault and Shouyou wasn’t, either, then that meant his mother was at fault. And how terrible to think her poison hadn’t only infected himself but his friendships as well- to think that he wasn’t the only thing she had ruined.)

“Shouyou,” Akira breathes, taking an uncertain step forward and reaching his arms out, awkwardly, as if he had never done it before- as if he had never even tried before this moment. “You’re okay?”

There’s something desperate in his voice, something that makes him wish things had been different even more than he already has- something that makes Shouyou mourn for all they’ve lost. 

Shouyou softens, even as tears prickle in his eyes, and when he takes his first step forward, he wraps his arms around his friend (and he doesn’t even know which one of them is the one trembling- but somehow, he can’t care). 

“Yeah,” he tells him, even as a knot lumps in his throat and he buries his head into Akira’s chest, even as the tears spill over. “I think I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	18. Salvation for the Damned

By the time Shouyou and Akira finally arrive to Akira’s home, Shouyou has already explained, in hushed whispers, the way his mother had threatened him to not tell his friends- a lot less hushed, Akira snorts, seeming absurdly pleased at how obviously Shouyou was defying his mother’s (hopefully) empty threats.

Still, Akira’s eyes burn with his righteous fury, but even as the sight sends the phantom remnants of fear crackling up his spine, he pushes it aside, and breathes in the crisp air outside, instead. 

(Akira would never hurt him.)

“We’re here,” Akira announces, startling Shouyou out of his thoughts, his apathetic gaze still set- even if Shouyou could see his fingers trembling and the way his eyes kept scanning Shouyou for bruises he knew weren’t there. With a practiced motion, the door unlocks and he steps inside.

Shouyou stares at Akira’s house before them.

A familiar sight, as usual, but one that has never failed to drag out the stirrings of anxiety in his stomach. 

“Yeah,” he says, and he can only hope the dread lurking underneath his skin isn’t as obvious to Akira as it feels like to Shouyou. “We are.”

“Kindaichi is already here,” Akira adds on when Shouyou hesitates over stepping inside the house (the boundary between friend to guest- to someone not truly wanted). “My mom’s the only one home and she thinks this is just a regular sleepover, even if you’re… arriving late.”

Shouyou nods, but even the thought of crossing the line makes it feel as though the ground beneath him is giving away- as though if he makes just one wrong move, he’ll fall right through into the abyss and never be seen again.

Akira shifts, and then, steps back outside and holds out his hand, a little awkwardly. “We’ll figure it out together, remember?” And then, with a smile, small but true and genuine, “No matter what.”

The whirlwind of anxiety and panic (and the fear that if he stepped into Akira’s home, he’d never want to leave) inside Shouyou falters for a moment, and then, stops.

“I trust you,” Shouyou echoes, grasping Akira’s hand in his own, a steadying weight reminding him where he was, and Akira nods, leading him inside (another boundary crossed- but for some reason, Shouyou can’t even mind) and locking the door before pressing onwards.

Just as they finally reach Akira’s bedroom, the door closed, he pauses, and without looking back, quietly says, “I trust you, too, Shouyou,” as if it had even needed to be said.

Shouyou can’t help but smile, and as Akira quickly opens the door, his smile only widens as he spots Kindaichi, lazily spinning in circles in Akira’s desktop chair.

“Hinata!” Kindaichi shouts, before coughing and continuing at a lower volume. “You’re okay.”

Then, before Shouyou can assure Kindaichi that he really is, Kindaichi glances down and his gaze freezes on Akira and Shouyou’s hands.

“Shut-” Akira hisses at Kindaichi just as the shock settles onto his face, and then Kindaichi snorts, before trying to keep a straight face (very badly, Shouyou will add). “Not a single word.”

Then, Akira slinks over to his bed and dives underneath the covers, before emerging as a blanket cocoon, only his eyes peeking out in a harsh glare aimed at Kindaichi. 

Kindaichi keeps it together for exactly six seconds (which is _also_ exactly enough time for Shouyou to settle on the bed next to Akira, who begrudgingly lets him lean against his shoulder), before dissolving into laughter.

“Mr. I Hate My Friends is _soft_ ,” Kindaichi wheezes. “It’s not exactly been a secret but- holding hands, Kunimi? Holding hands.”

Shouyou pouts. “Do you _not_ want to hold my hand!”

Kindaichi stops, and then actually considers it. “Hm. You _are_ soft. Literally.”

Making a _point made_ gesture, Shouyou glances at Akira out of the corner of his eye, beaming at having taken the attention off of his embarrassed friend. Akira very carefully does not meet his gaze, but if Shouyou feels Akira lean a bit onto his shoulder, then it’s only for the two of them to know.

“Hinata, did you see the plan?” Kindaichi asks, and Shouyou freezes before slowly inching behind Akira as if when he’s out of sight, Kindaichi will simply forget of his existence. 

“Maybe?” 

Akira cranes his neck around, the blankets falling away and revealing a human boy and not an eldritch being made of only one pair of glowing, angry eyes. “You did,” he points out, a hint of confusion dancing around his words.

“I don’t know,” he says, and at the disappointment in his friends’ faces, he shrinks away. “I can try. But… I don’t want to bother anyone more than I already have.”

Akira’s gaze burns into his- not quite glaring, but not his usual, passive stare. Something desperate and determined lays behind his eyes.

“I watched your mother drag you into hell,” Akira says aloud, each word burning with a raw, cracked intensity. “I won’t let her drag you back again.”

 _Hell_ , Shouyou thinks, and when the word sits too comfortably on his tongue, he can only sigh against the sting of bitter disappointment at what his home was supposed to be had become- damned to his own eternal punishment.

If Shouyou’s mother was the reigning monarch of Shouyou’s own, personal hell, then what did that make Akira’s home? It couldn’t be heaven, because as much as Shouyou wishes, he isn’t here to stay- not for good. 

Sanctuary, then, Shouyou decides. 

For the drowned rising back to the surface however many times they could before they finally sank underneath. 

And maybe, it was crueller to have sweet hope lingering on his tongue right before his mother dragged him back underneath, the taste of hope broken and the idea of salvation unthinkable- and yet, the thought of having no hope at all seems a fate worse than death itself.

Sanctuary- a respite for the dying and for the broken.

(He only hopes he can stay as long as he can.)

“It would be easier if none of this was happening. If she never ruined me,” Shouyou thinks, and when Akira grimaces and Kindaichi turns away, he realizes, a moment too late, he spoke his thoughts out loud. 

“Sorry!” Shouyou blurts out, and shoves his face into his hands.

Kindaichi clears his throat, and when Shouyou finally drags his gaze up towards his friend, peeking between his fingers, he sees a face, plagued with sorrow but full of determination despite it all (or maybe, it was in spite of it, instead). 

“She didn’t ruin you.”

Shouyou blinks, his hands falling away. 

“But… I flinch if someone raises their hand- or if their voice is too loud- I overthink _everything_ and even when I’m trying to not bother everyone, I still manage to,” and despite Shouyou spilling the truth from his lips like bitter poison, Kindaichi only shakes his head with a reassuring smile. 

“That’s just proof she couldn’t,” Kindaichi says, and when Shouyou has to bite back the frustration bubbling in his stomach (he was ruined, he had to be- if he wasn’t, it was his own fault for being so scared, and not his mother’s, and if he was at fault again, he was the monster, and-), Kindaichi pauses for a moment before continuing. “You get back up.”

“I...” Shouyou draws out, “don’t think I really do?”

“No,” Akira contradicts after a split second, eyes narrowed in thought. “Kindaichi is, surprise of all surprises, correct. When you tried to protect me from the coach, you didn’t skip practice. You came back.”

Then, with a nudge, and a soft, small smile, “You always have.”

“And that means something,” Shouyou says, even if he doesn’t know yet _what_ it means. “It has to.”

(If it doesn’t, then everything is ruined again.)

If Shouyou has risen up time and time again against the odds, then could it be that his mother was wrong- that her taunting words hadn’t burned from being knowledge but only pain instead?

Before Shouyou can overthink it, he scrambles out of his hiding spot behind Akira, and blurts out, “Am I strong?”

When no response initially comes, Shouyou thinks _ah,_ and wishes he could sink into the space beneath Akira’s bed and lay there forever, a withering corpse forgotten by all.

(Maybe, that would be exactly what he deserves.)

“Shouyou,” Akira begins, and glances at Shouyou with a burning intensity. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

At that, Shouyou splutters, and, when he looks at Kindaichi for a voice of reason, Kindaichi only grins and reaches over to settle his hand upon Shouyou’s shoulder. “Surprise of all surprises,” he echoes, and Akira turns his gaze away to glare at Kindaichi, “he’s right.”

But, the thing is, “I don’t _feel_ very strong.”

Akira’s lips twist into a frown. “I don’t know anyone whose mother is a literal _monster_ who I would genuinely like to k-”

Kindaichi coughs, loudly. 

“Calmly discuss her abusive behavior with?” Kindaichi suggests, and when Shouyou glances between their shared look and then nod, he might be more than a little lost.

“Your mother is terrible to you,” Akira tells him- Shouyou nods, that much is true. “And yet, you still smile so brightly. I don’t know how you can even exist after everything she’s done to you. I’m not even the one being hurt, and yet-”

Akira stops.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Akira says. “That’s all.”

“That is _not_ all.” Then, Kindaichi stands up, and casually walks outside the room. “I’m hungry,” Kindaichi explains, as if that explains anything, and before he leaves, shoots them both a smile and a thumbs up.

When his footsteps finally fade away, Akira edges closer, and when Shouyou carefully fits himself right next to Akira, he doesn’t move away. 

“I was scared,” Akira admits, and when Shouyou opens his mouth to say something, he sharply shakes his head, and continues, “When she dragged you away, I felt like a part of me was dying. Knowing she was hurting you and that there was nothing I could do.”

“It’s not your fault,” Shouyou tells him, and Akira smiles, a little too upset and twisted to be true. “It isn’t, Akira- you’re not responsible for what my mom does.”

Akira shrugs instead, and the stirrings of terror awake- he can feel Akira slipping further and further away, the distance growing and growing until there was no love left between them.

Then, just as the bitter taste of broken hope sets in (no salvation for the broken, no salvation for the damned), Akira glances back and nudges his shoulder with a small smile (and it almost feels like the distance has never been there at all).

“Stay,” Akira pleads, and worst of all, hope is twisted within his voice. “Please.”

(If he says no, the distance will return.)

“Okay,” Shouyou says. “I will.”

With one last shuddering breath, Akira steps off the bed and begins heading out the door, before turning back when Shouyou doesn’t follow. “Dinner, dumbass,” he says, and if the insult doesn’t have half the punch Shouyou knows it should, he doesn’t say a word, and only follows behind Akira to the dining table, which already has three mouthwatering plates of curry set, all with a smile lingering upon his face.

“Hinata, it’s good to see you,” Akira’s mother greets, and even though the habit should’ve long died, Shouyou’s heart still seizes as he takes in each aspect of her exhaustion, laid clear on her expression- is she tired and overworking herself, too?

“Thanks!” Shouyou pouts at Kindaichi’s muffled laugh from Shouyou’s awkwardness. He glances at Akira, who sits beside him, but Akira’s lips are twisted into a tiny smile and when he notices him looking, only sticks his tongue out.

“It’s good to see you too,” Shouyou continues, a little clumsily. 

Thankfully, the smile that appears on her face lifts the exhaustion from her face, if only a little.

Akira’s mother ruffles Akira’s hair as she passes by, and Shouyou carefully looks away. 

Even now, thinking of how his only family was fractured in pieces that could never be glued back together leaves a tinge of bitterness to his thoughts when he sees how, despite a few flaws, Akira’s family seems so happy- 

It feels as though they actually love each other.

“Oh, Hinata,” Akira’s mother says, just as she’s at the doorway, and Shouyou sinks into his seat as if that would stop her from continuing. “Is there any reason you came over so late? I wouldn’t want your mother to worry.”

Shouyou wheezes out a small laugh, glancing at Akira, whose stare has turned venomous, his hands gripping the wooden table so hard that Shouyou can see his fingers trembling from the force.

“His mother,” Akira says, his tone perfectly even- a little too much so, as his mother glances back, with a carefully unassuming expression, “will be fine.”

“Hm,” Akira’s mother frowns. “If you could call her and let her know-”

The sound of a chair as it scrapes, the sight of hands falling away-

“No,” Akira snarls.

His fists are clenched next to his sides as he stands, trembling from his rage and his fury, (something is alight in his eyes, _burning_ )- Shouyou notices it all, and all he can do is stare, his mind painfully blank. 

(And all he can think is: how has he ruined yet another family?)

Then, after a long, absurdly stretched out moment where Shouyou stays as frozen and still as he can, Akira stalks away- just as Shouyou finally manages to stand on shaky legs to follow his friend, Kindaichi pats his shoulder with an apologetic smile.

“I think it might be better,” Kindaichi says, and the worst part is Shouyou knows what’s coming, “if I go alone.”

Shouyou nods, slow and unsure- but if Kindaichi was sure, he would trust him, would trust his friend.

“Right,” he echoes, but by the time he does, Kindaichi is already gone.

Sinking back into his seat, Shouyou can’t help but wonder how it all went so wrong. 

It was just one dinner at a friend’s place, and then, everything was ruined.

Shouyou glances at Akira’s mother and nearly flinches from the calculating look in her eyes, familiar in its intensity, before a thought strikes- 

“Don’t be mad at him,” Shouyou pleads, and when she glances over, he tears his gaze away as quickly as possible. “Please.”

Akira’s mother sighs, dragging her hand over her face- she sounds so tired. “I won’t hit him, Hinata. I promise.”

Shouyou only gets a split second of instant, overwhelming relief before he freezes at the words, coughing out, “I never- I didn’t-”

Somehow, Akira’s mother looks even more exhausted at his accidental admission’s implications. “It’s okay,” she tells him, and when he shrinks away at the hand she reaches out, her hand falters and then falls away. 

There’s nothing more in the world Shouyou would like than to run away, to find Kindaichi and Akira and hide behind his friends and walk on eggshells around Akira’s mother for the rest of his life, pretending as though the signs of his mother’s mistreatment weren’t as clear as day to anyone who bothered to look, but-

But the memory of Akira’s fury, misfiring at his own mother, is too close to the forefront of his mind, and the thought of ruining their relationship, just because his own was broken beyond repair...

It wouldn’t be fair- and maybe most things in life aren’t, but if Shouyou has the choice between making the world a slightly better place for the people he loves and making it worse, then it was never really a choice to begin with.

Shouyou can’t ask Akira to lie for him any longer.

“My mother,” Shouyou says. “She’s bad. She’s hurt me, a lot.”

Akira’s mother nods, a rueful smile on her face. “You don’t have to talk to me about any of the details if you don’t want to,” she clarifies, her voice soft but lined with steel underneath. “But I meant it when I said you’re always welcome at our home.”

This time, Shouyou doesn’t look away and doesn’t deflect- he raises his gaze to meet hers, even as his heart feels like it might leap out of his throat, and says, “But I don’t know how long I’d need to stay.”

“I know,” she says, and, carefully, settles a hand on top of his head before ruffling his hair lightly, all with a soft, aching smile. “Stay as long as you need.”

“You’re sure?” Shouyou asks. “No take backs?”

Akira’s mother lets her hand fall away, nodding. “You deserve a home.”

Before Shouyou can beat it back with a stick, the guilt rushes up and he sinks into his seat. 

If his mother saw, she would tell him he was taking advantage of his friend’s and his family’s kindness, that he was nothing more than a weak, selfish leech- at least in that, he’s certain. His mother has always told him the darkest of his thoughts that he’d never let himself consider for too long (out of the fear that she might be right, that he was the monster all this time).

“But,” Shouyou says, the idea of it unthinkable, “I’m _me_ -”

Akira’s mother stills, and the smiles she gives him seems to be tinged with sadness lurking just underneath. “Everyone deserves a home,” she tells him, slow but sure. 

“Even me?”

Akira’s mother breathes in a single, shuddering breath. “Especially you.”

Shouyou nods slowly.

Standing back up carefully, he tugs Akira’s mother into an empty seat, bustling around the unfamiliar kitchen and blustering his way into finding the plate he’d been searching for. Then, unfortunately not seeing any leftover curry (which was deeply worrying- was she just not going to eat?), Shouyou splits his portion into half and gives it to Akira’s mother with a hopeful smile.

“For you!” Shouyou says, and the sound of her quiet laughter makes him relax back into his seat, his own smile growing.

“Oh, Shouyou,” Akira’s mother takes the plate, although her amusement is clear in her eyes, “you are _such_ a kind young boy.”

Shouyou scrunches his face up at the endearment (although the praise leaves the world spinning around him, even if it was just a joke). “I’m not a _boy_ ,” he pouts.

“Hm,” Akira’s mother says, and the teasing smile tells him all he needs to know. “Grow a few more inches and we’ll see.”

It’s to the sight of Akira’s mother and Shouyou laughing and talking over their dinner that Akira and Kindaichi return to, the conversation long having moved on to volleyball. The funniest thing is that when Shouyou uses sound effects a little too liberally or gets a bit too excited, Akira’s mother looks fond, rather than exasperated- and kind, rather than cruel.

Akira slips back into his seat, his gaze carefully averted, and Shouyou has to elbow him to try and get his attention.

“I told her,” he says in a hushed whisper, and Akira’s head snaps towards him. “Just a bit.”

Akira exhales sharply, turning his gaze back away. “You shouldn’t have had to.”

Before Shouyou can do much more to blink, Kindaichi clears his throat loudly.

“Mom,” Akira begins, but deflates the instant his mother actually glances at him. “Sorry.”

In just a moment, Akira was forgiven.

Akira’s mother nods without a single moment of hesitation- and just like that, their more-than-a-disagreement but less-than-an-argument fades away and the idle, comfortable chatter continues at dinner, Akira’s mother so genuinely interested in her son and his friends’ lives that it makes him ache.

(If Shouyou apologized to his mother, he wonders if she would forgive him too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic is actually going to end in three chapters (I think). In a way, it feels tragic and incredibly sad but on the other, finishing a project, especially one that I love so much, would be amazing.  
> I'll save the rest of my thoughts for the last chapter's final end note, but I've actually been thinking of and planning for a sequel, so if you're interested, let me know!  
> This fanfic can be read by itself and, hopefully, the arcs that have been put in play will come to a satisfying end, but the sequel would expand with some (what I think are, at least) really interesting themes and ideas and messages and characters (Bokuto and Akaashi will hopefully show up, and I hope Kuroo and Kenma can reprise their roles again!).  
> Sorry for rambling, although I'm sure everyone is used to it from my writing style!!  
> Thank you for reading!


	19. Gods At War

Living at the Kunimi household for the past few weeks has been like a dream come true- it feels strange to live without the silence stagnating around him when he doesn’t have to count down the days until he has to leave, knowing he can stay as long as he needs.

Akira isn’t as loud as he remembers Natsu being but Shouyou makes up for it tenfold, eagerly rushing to fill any silence with half-baked thoughts blurted out, (if it was silent, it was like he was back home).

But even though he knows that makes him weak, Akira’s parents don’t ever raise a hand against him or belittle his interests or threaten him or even ignore him for weeks on end-

Huh. 

Shouyou hadn’t realized just how bad everything his mother has done ( _and will do_ , his mind warns traitorously- but that part of his life was over, wasn’t it?) actually sounded.

Compared to his mother, Akira’s parents are angels.

Akira’s mother, Ayame, actually has a familiar bad habit of overworking herself at her job, returning home with a withdrawn gaze that never fails to brighten whenever she sees Akira (and, oddly enough, Shouyou, too). 

When he hesitantly reaches out and helps her prepare dinner that night, as he has almost every day for the past few weeks, all he’s doing is awkwardly chopping potatoes and carrots into chunks as she listens to him ramble in wandering circles about his day- but the resulting smile leaves her a sun-blessed god, bringer of hope and salvation.

Shouyou smiles back.

(He doesn’t deserve it.)

And yet, there’s something about the way she treats him that makes him wonder if he really deserved everything his mother put him through when even strangers treated him with more kindness.

(A spark of defiance lies underneath, unbidden and unneeded- but only for now.)

Shouyou’s gaze slips towards the clock just as it ticks towards 5:41 PM, and, just as he had hoped, the sound of a door clicking open and then shut can be heard.

Akira’s mother brightens instantly. 

After ruffling his hair, she rushes off to greet her husband with idle chatter and the sound of their warm laughter far away leaves Shouyou unsure if he was warmed or not (he didn’t belong here, their laughter wasn’t for him, and yet-).

That was another weird development, though, although not entirely unexpected- while Shouyou knew he was maybe a tiny bit touch-starved (at least, according to the expertise of every single one of his friends), he had never thought a mother’s touch could feel so warm.

As Shouyou settles down in his usual seat (and it sends a rush of giddiness through him to know that this was _his_ spot), he stays silent, even when he would normally spout off a hundred thoughts.

Tonight, he watches.

This marks the day when exactly two weeks have passed since he’s unofficially moved out of his mother’s apartment.

And, while it would normally be cause for celebration, Tooru is coming over later for something less pleasant- something he’s been dreading and putting off thinking about for almost an entire week.

Still, at least Shouyou has this- idle chatter about everything and anything, easy laughter and questions, and a bowl of curry before him, awkwardly chopped potatoes and carrots and all. 

(His mother can’t take this away from him- she couldn’t, right?)

So when dinner is far shorter than Shouyou had been hoping for, he definitely doesn’t pout as Akira’s parents clean up and head off to the kitchen, quietly discussing something under their breath.

Akira glances at him, and then, glances back towards his phone. “You don’t have to go,” he says, even though the tone in his voice is defeated, as if he already knows his struggle is futile.

“I do,” Shouyou responds, just as quickly. “It’s just for a few minutes...”

Akira grumbles for a few more seconds, but finally shoves off his huge sweater and tosses it at him, along with the old cat tote bag Kenma had gifted Shouyou so long ago. “And you’re sure you don’t want me to come with?”

Shouyou nods, even as he smiles to himself as he shrugs on his friend’s sweater (ah, the one that, worryingly enough, smelled of Akira’s beloved salted caramels), swinging the cat tote bag around his shoulder. “Tooru is enough!” 

After a long, stifling moment, Akira finally nods with a grimace. 

“Be safe,” he says, and it sounds like a plea.

Rushing his friend with a hug that only lasts for a split second, Shouyou nods and then sprints away before Akira can push him off. “Of course I will!” he shouts as he shoves his shoes on and nearly trips on his way out, locking the door behind him. “Always am!”

Akira shouts something back in response that’s drowned out but sounds remarkably like he definitely doesn’t believe Shouyou.

Shouyou anxiously scans the street for-

“Tooru!”

Shouyou’s wonderful, stupidly handsome boyfriend spots him within an instant, immediately brightening, and he sweeps Shouyou into a hug. 

“Shou-chan!” he cheers, as if Shouyou has done something incredible just by existing. “You’re ready?”

Shouyou nods and steps away, reaching out to grab Tooru’s hand, warm and steady.

“It’s just to get some clothes and stuff! It’ll be okay,” Shouyou says, and he isn’t sure if he’s trying to reassure Tooru or himself.

It was just his mother.

(Just a monster distorted from her rage and her fury, a wrathful god seeking vengeance.)

Tooru, as if noticing his worry, squeezes his hand reassuringly, and even if the look in his eyes is dark and swept up in resentment (and all Shouyou could do was hope it wasn’t for him), his touch is still as tender and soft and reverent as each day before, each action filled with so much love and care it made him ache.

“I’ll be there,” Tooru tells him. “I’ll protect you, Shouyou.”

And then, aching and soft, a quiet, “I promise.”

Shouyou can’t help but smile, struggling onto his tiptoes as he presses a light kiss to Tooru’s cheek, regardless of how embarrassed it makes him feel- the look on Tooru’s face always makes it worth it, so breathtaking and beautiful, their mutual affection and love leaving them in a comforting bubble just for the two of them to enjoy each other’s company for but a moment longer.

As they continue to make their way towards Shouyou’s mother’s apartment, Shouyou can tell the exact moment an indistinct apartment building is his mother’s- his heart skips a beat and his stomach sinks and his fingers feel numb, even as Tooru holds his hand with the utmost care.

Tooru pauses. “You can stay in the lobby if that’s what you want, Shou-chan!”

Despite the light-hearted tone, Shouyou frowns and shakes his head, pushing on further inside the lobby of the apartment (this was where he and Akira were ripped apart, this was where his mother burned her touch into his skin and- this was where he was ruined). 

“I can’t ignore her for the rest of my life,” and with a trembling hand, he presses the button for the elevator, watching as it slowly ticks down the floors and the seconds that he has left. “I can’t let her win.”

When Shouyou glances up to his side, he sees Tooru’s frown and nudges him. “Besides, I’ll be okay, remember? You’ll be there.”

Tooru sighs, but after a moment, he nods. “Of course,” Tooru tells Shouyou, as if he’d never even thought of doing anything else, and then, “I’d do anything for you.”

Shouyou blinks, and by the time his brain is even _beginning_ to reboot back online (was that a confession because it sounded _a lot_ like a declaration of affection and of commitment and- and of love), the elevator doors click open and Tooru is already leading him inside, a small smile on his face.

Then Tooru glances at him and brightens to an absurd degree, puffing out his chest with an infuriatingly handsome smirk on his face. “Aw, Shou-chan, you’re _blushing_!”

Shouyou splutters, because _no_ , he is _not_ \- only to realize that _oh_ , that’s why his cheeks feel so ridiculously warm. “No, I’m not!” He blatantly lies, tugging his hand away to cross his arms. “You’re just mean, Tooru!”

Letting out a big sigh, Tooru deflates- even if it isn’t serious, Shouyou’s heart still aches.

“But you’re _my_ mean boyfriend,” Shouyou adds on, and when Tooru grins and perks right back up, he can’t help but laugh from how ridiculous it feels. “And I’ll be the… nice boyfriend! The _best_ boyfriend!” 

Even as Shouyou knows full well which of them is actually the reigning holder of the grand title _Best Boyfriend_ , Tooru doesn’t dispute it, only watching his excited antics with that fond look in his eyes.

“You always have been, Shou-chan.”

The doors slide open, and Shouyou leads Tooru to his mother’s apartment, where Tooru ends up knocking due to how Shouyou’s hand hovers over the door for almost two minutes straight, frozen in fear.

After what feels like hours, arms stiffly locked against his sides, wishing he could hold Tooru’s hand, (the thought of his mother knowing he was dating someone, especially when it was a _guy_ , left him sick, he didn’t even want to think of what she would say- or would she even care at all?), he remains painfully still until he hears the sound of a door as it clicks.

Shouyou’s mother stands before them.

And before Shouyou can think otherwise, his gaze is already scanning over her to see if she seems okay and hasn’t been overworking before his gaze freezes as he remembers just how broken and severed their relationship was (even beyond before, when it felt like it didn’t even exist).

“Shouyou,” she greets, disinterest clear in her eyes before she turns away and walks further into her apartment without another word.

(And it shouldn’t still burn, but it does, and he hates himself even more for it.)

“Shou-chan,” Tooru starts, soft and aching and full of pain. 

Shouyou shakes his head before his boyfriend can even ask if he wants to leave- his mother had gone in the direction of his old bedroom (or was it still his, even now?), and so he follows.

Without Tooru’s hand in his own, the world around him is painfully constricted and yet, at the same time, too large for his liking, his mother lurking around each and every corner with a monstrous grimace twisted into a distorted smile.

At least Shouyou has the tiny dinosaur keychain hidden in his pocket, the cat tote bag on his shoulder, and Akira’s sweater hanging off of him.

Shouyou’s friends will protect him, even if they aren’t there- and if they can’t, if his mother looms too far above, Tooru is there to defend him anyways.

(He is strong and he is invincible and- he is loved.)

Shoving as many clothes and school materials as he can into his bag, Shouyou studiously avoids eye contact- even if he knows it was inevitable to have to be near his mother, it still left his skin crawling and fear creeping up his spine, wondering when she would next snap.

(Akira and Kindaichi had shared their textbooks and notes with him for weeks now, but even he had known it wasn’t a long-term solution. At least now, he wouldn’t have to think about how much he was bothering his friends anymore.)

And then, Shouyou’s mother opens her mouth, a small spark of something cruel lurking in her eyes as she leans against the door, blocking Shouyou and Tooru from leaving.

“Oh, that’s all?” 

The tone is mocking, Shouyou notices, too numb to do anything more than watch as she stalks closer, even as his mind screams at him to leave, incoherent, desperate pleas filtered out from the fog of blank static.

“You come back after _two weeks_ and leave again,” and she laughs, cruel and mocking and the sound of nightmares. “I wonder how long it’ll take you to come crawling back.”

There’s something about how casual her words sound that makes them burn even harsher, and Shouyou starts to say _she said I could stay as long as I wanted_ and _everyone knows how much of a monster you are_ and, the one he can only wish was true, _I’m not scared of you anymore._

But the words never leave, trapped in his throat as he stares, stumbling back onto his bed, terror wrapping itself around his heart like intercrossing vines, the thorns pricking and burning, tipped with poison and _burning_ -

“Don’t speak to him that way.”

Shouyou breathes a shuddering breath- in, then out, careful and slow- before blinking to see Tooru standing in front of him, his fists clenched and trembling. 

And that’s when Shouyou realizes he never should’ve brought Tooru, or even Akira or one of his friends- should’ve never have thought of himself before them.

(He should’ve remembered his mother didn’t only hurt him, but everyone around him who was foolish enough to care.)

Tooru is shielding Shouyou from his mother, at his own expense and at his own pain- even as it aches, even as he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he can’t muster up a single ounce of strength to stand.

But not looking doesn’t mean it’s better- not looking at his mother means he doesn’t know when she’ll strike, means her quietly controlled voice (but only for now) is the only thing creeping up his spine alongside the ever-present terror.

But, Shouyou decides when he peeks out a bit and immediately regrets it, looking was worse.

To watch as the burning anger in her eyes grows and grows until the smoldering flames burn every last bit of himself to pieces, until it’s all charred and tainted and ruined- until the flames burn him alive.

(And, maybe the worst part is that she smiles as he falls to pieces and smiles as he burns.)

“Sure,” Shouyou’s mother agrees, too easily to mean it as anything more than a white lie- from the sharp breath Tooru inhales, he sees it too. “You’ll get sick of him soon enough.”

Shouyou snorts before he can help it, the bitter irony not lost him- when he remembers just where he is, his breath catches in his throat and it’s only when Tooru settles a hand on his shoulder and gives him an encouraging smile, despite how controlled the rest of his expression is, that he finally stands on shaky legs and faces the woman he once called mother.

(His own mother doesn’t even love him, but maybe, that isn’t his fault- maybe, it’s hers.)

Shouyou is fueled by spite and hatred and- and knowing he was enough. 

(And he defies the laws of the universe.)

“Everyone I’ve ever met treats me better than you,” he says- it’s exhilarating to not have to push away the fear for once, but relish how much it burns, and then, stand against that terror despite it anyways. “I’m loud and annoying and stupid but I’m so much more than that- I’m human and I deserve love and…”

“And I’m strong,” Shouyou says, and it’s as though it’s truth itself. “Stronger than you’ll ever know, than you’ll ever get to see.”

He leaves of his own accord.

Shouyou doesn’t stop to look for any changes in her expression, just brushes past where she’s fallen away from the door, silent and unmoving.

If Shouyou looks back, he knows he’ll freeze, weighed down by regret and a thousand thoughts of how he should’ve done better.

But maybe, he did enough-

Maybe, _Shouyou_ was enough. 

Tooru hurries after him and just as the apartment door clicks shut behind them, Shouyou sinks into Tooru’s arms, burying his head in his boyfriend’s chest as his breaths hitch.

“She’s going to kill me,” Shouyou says and when Tooru’s arms wrap around him, he sinks in as far as he can. He hates how the terror creeps up his spine and wraps its clammy hands around his throat- hates how worthless and small he feels. “If I ever go back, she’ll be so _mad_ -”

Tooru’s grip around him tightens. 

“I would never let that happen,” he promises, a deathly vow forged from love itself.

After a few moments where Shouyou tries to relax after what had to be one of the most terrifying and jaw-droppingly stupid things he’s ever done, Tooru lets him go and cups his cheek with his palm, the warmest smile he’s ever seen on his face. 

“You’re so brave,” Tooru whispers, and Shouyou can’t help but smile back, leaning into the warmth of his boyfriend’s palm. “You’re incredible, Shouyou.”

Shouyou isn’t sure he’s all that incredible, but Tooru gazes at him so reverently, as if he matters, as if he’s worth seeing, as if he’s the sun and the stars and the skies above-

As if he’s his _everything_.

“I think I love you!” 

Shouyou freezes, but when Tooru huffs out a small laugh, there isn’t anything mocking or cruel in his eyes. Only pure love and affection simmers behind his warm brown eyes- the achingly beautiful color of hot chocolate on a stormy day.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left...  
> Thank you for reading!


	20. All That Remains

Before Shouyou can even settle into his new normal, it’s Friday after school and volleyball practice has already begun to transition into the last half hour of paired practice, Tooru having gathered the club members up to discuss a seemingly important matter. 

Shouyou glances at his phone again before he can stop himself- he’s already gotten his response, so he _knows_ he doesn’t have to keep checking on it, and yet… 

Just an hour or so is all that’s left- all that remains.

Akira is, annoyingly enough, using Shouyou’s head as a place to rest his allegedly weary and exhausted arms. When Shouyou casts Kindaichi a pleading glance, he just muffles a snort and turns away with an innocent smile. Bastard.

Then, Tooru is speaking, something about an upcoming game, drowned out by the spark of passion behind his eyes and the infuriatingly handsome smirk on his face-

“Upcoming game!” Shouyou blurts out in an echo, and shrinks a little into himself when the rest of the volleyball club stares- even so, adrenaline is thrumming in his veins, chanting _volleyball, volleyball, volleyball_.

Luckily, Tooru is already used to him and just nods, a bit of fondness seeping through his tone before he continues, “Heh, that’s right, Shou-chan! Our first game will be in three or so weeks and we’re going to have to be prepared.”

The upperclassmen all straighten up at that, the atmosphere cooling, a stark contrast to how relaxed they had been just seconds prior- they all seem to know exactly what their captain is implying, even if Shouyou (and Akira and Kindaichi, given by how they both shrug when he glances at them) has absolutely no clue why everyone’s smiles dropped.

Tooru’s gaze catches on his, and within an instant, recognition sets in. 

“Last year,” he says, “we lost to Shiratorizawa in the final round.”

“How?” Shouyou asks before he can even register Akira elbowing him sharply, and by then, it’s far too late- Tooru’s face has already darkened, and so, Shouyou scrambles to fix his words, “It’s just- you’re all _amazing_ \- I didn’t mean-”

“Hinata,” Iwaizumi interrupts from beside him, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “It’s fine. Right, Stupidkawa?”

Tooru waves him off. “Yes, yes, Iwa-chan!”

Then, Tooru glances away from the team, towards something far off in the distance- when Shouyou cranes his head around to see if there’s a squirrel climbing on the window that’s caught Tooru’s attention, he sees absolutely nothing instead.

“They have Ushijima,” Tooru says simply, and something in Shouyou aches- the certainty in Tooru’s voice is painfully similar. 

Shouyou scrunches his face up. “But we have you!”

At that, Tooru freezes, before he forces a small laugh. “That’s sweet, Shou-chan, but-”

“He’s right, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi cuts him off with a stern glare. “We can win,” he says, and for a moment, Shouyou can see the certainty on Tooru’s face waver, “we just have to prove we’re the stronger team of six.”

After a brief moment, Tooru sighs. “You’ve both got me there, Iwa-chan, Shou-chan… Speaking of the team of six, our starting lineup!”

 _Oh_ , Shouyou thinks, and suddenly, he’s grateful for Akira’s shoulder pressing into his- he isn’t alone. 

He knows he has three years ahead of him to claw his way onto the team. 

And yet, he can’t help, even as he’s painfully aware of his weakness as a volleyball player, but hope- hope that his captain will see him as someone he can utilize to _win_ , hope that he’ll be able to play with his incredible boyfriend for just one year before he leaves him behind.

“Firstly, I will be setter!” Tooru announces grandly with a great flourish and a bow.

A painfully long moment passes.

“Wow, congrats, T- Oikawa-senpai!” Shouyou cheers when the rest of the team only gives Tooru a judgmental stare- Akira actually does a slow clap, but he thinks that’s almost worse. 

Tooru brightens at Shouyou’s encouragement, puffing out his chest even as Iwaizumi’s glare sharpens, and finally, continues. “Next up is Iwa-chan, our ace! Then, Mattsun and Makki, our libero Watachi, and for the two new first years on the team-”

Shouyou freezes.

One, two, three, and four- and then, two first years. 

(If only volleyball was a team of seven, he thinks it wouldn’t hurt as much.)

“Congratulations, Kindaichi and Shou-chan!” Tooru announces, beaming.

He blinks, once and then twice- he glances at Akira, who looks a little too unbothered, but before he can even say anything, Tooru splits them off into pairs of two to practice individually.

“Akira?” 

Luckily, Akira stops, just as Tooru makes his way over to Shouyou as his assigned partner- (Tooru knew _exactly_ what he was doing, but it wasn’t as if Shouyou could ever mind).

“Congratulations, Shouyou. You deserve it,” Akira says, and despite the slight note of pride lining his words, Shouyou wonders what lies underneath- was he upset at him for stealing his spot? Were they not friends anymore?

(Did Shouyou even deserve it?)

“Shou-chan!” Tooru pouts.

Shouyou’s gaze snaps right towards his boyfriend. “Yeah?”

“You’re thinking mean thoughts, again.”

Shouyou laughs nervously. “No!” he instantly denies, before deflating a bit, picking up a volleyball and fiddling with it so he doesn’t have to look his overly perceptive boyfriend in the eye. “Maybe?”

“Then whatever you’re thinking,” Tooru tells him, much more kindly than what he deserves, “could never be true.”

This time, the laugh is a little more disbelieving. 

“Why me?” Shouyou asks instead. “Akira is ten times better at the fundamentals, my spot should’ve gone to him. If I wasn’t here, then-”

Tooru lets out a small, sad sigh, and when Shouyou’s jaw clicks shut, Tooru just interlocks his fingers with Shouyou’s and leads him over to a quiet corner of the gym, a contemplative look on his face- the volleyball drops on the ground, forgotten.

“If Kindaichi wasn’t here, Akira would be on the team,” Tooru points out, and when Shouyou squints, he just huffs out a laugh and leans against the wall. “If any other member wasn’t, then he would be. It wasn’t _you_.”

“Besides,” Tooru continues. “You say that as if you aren’t incredibly passionate and hard working and skilled! You’ll be an excellent team player and an even better decoy to mess with our opponents’ heads.”

Shouyou starts to shrug, unsure if he’s _really_ all that incredible, when Tooru glances at him, a soft smile in the sunlight casting a ray of hope into the gym- illuminating a future laying before him.

( _Beautiful_ , he thinks- but he’s always known Tooru was.)

“You’re amazing, Shouyou.”

Shouyou stares for a second, before a small laugh bubbles out and he grins at Tooru- he isn’t sure if Tooru is entirely right, but he thinks it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to at least try to believe him anyways.

“But I’m only amazing as long as you stand besides me, Tooru-” Shouyou starts, (behind every good spiker was an excellent setter- but was he even good?).

“I don’t see how that’s a problem?” Tooru smiles at him, squeezing his hand- a reassurance, a promise. “I’ll always be here for you.”

(As long as Tooru is there, he’s invincible.)

“Thank you,” Shouyou stumbles over the words, but the way Tooru’s smile turns to a grin makes it worth it. “I was wondering, after practice, as a favor, if…”

“Okay!” Tooru responds instantly.

“Wait- Tooru, _no_ , I didn’t even say-” Shouyou splutters, hysterically wondering how he’s dating the most foolishly trusting person ever. “I could be asking you to- to quit _volleyball-_ ”

Tooru blinks, tilting his head. “But you wouldn’t?” And then, with a soft smile, as if he means to kill him, “I trust you, Shou-chan!”

Shouyou tries to glare like Iwaizumi so often does- but before even a second passes, it crumbles away. “I trust you too, Tooru, but-”

“After practice, you and me?” Tooru casually cuts in, without even asking what the favor was.

Shouyou stares.

“Yeah, okay. Sure, Tooru.” And then, “Thanks.”

The rest of practice is split between actually practicing with Tooru and anxiously looking around for Akira, who always gives him a judgmental stare as if to say _shouldn’t you be paying attention…_ but never seems to be saying _you stole my spot and I hate you (and your mother was right about you)_ \- at least, as far as Shouyou can tell from the month or so of learning to read Akira’s facial expressions.

When practice starts to wrap up, Tooru heads towards the direction of the upperclassmen after a quick pat on the head and proud grin- Shouyou takes the opportunity to discreetly sneak over to Kindaichi, who’s practicing his receiving as Akira spikes from six feet or so away.

“Kindaichi,” Shouyou whispers under his breath, ignoring the weird look Akira is giving them both. “Is Akira mad at me?”

Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t even take more than a single second to Kindaichi to respond, as if _he_ was the one surprised that Shouyou had even asked, “No?”

“But I,” Shouyou gestures broadly towards the rest of the team. “And if I…”

Judging from Kindaichi’s confused stare, he doesn’t understand.

And just as Shouyou grits his teeth and prepares to have to spell it out, a loud cough interrupts him- as if his bones are creaking, he turns away from where he’d been facing Kindaichi and sees Akira staring back at him, neutral as always, just a few feet away.

“But I-”

“You didn’t steal my spot on the team,” Akira responds fluidly to Shouyou’s previous hand gestures, which he must’ve seen- oops? 

Shouyou frowns and stares at the ground. “And if I-”

“You do know I can still be substituted in during the later rounds. I don’t see how it matters,” Akira says instead, and when Shouyou stares, wondering if his entire brain has been scooped out of his brain and replaced with a pile of grains of rice endlessly trying and failing to spark, Akira finally sighs and continues. “You could’ve gone to Karasuno. You didn’t. Your mother could’ve been a decent person and not absolute shit. She wasn’t.”

Shouyou shrinks away at the blunt words, even though when he looks around, all the other club members are too far away to overhear anything, the upperclassmen all bunched together on the opposite side of the gym as they begin to clean up.

“But it would’ve been _better_ -” 

Kindaichi coughs and, before Akira can cut in with blazing eyes, “What happened _happened_ \- whether there was a reason for it or not. You’re here now, right?” 

Glancing at Shouyou, Akira’s expression finally softens and he, incredibly awkwardly, reaches over and shoves Shouyou’s shoulder lightly. “I’m _glad_ you’re here.”

Shouyou can’t help but grin right back at his friends, and somehow, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

And somehow, he means it.

Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d went to Karasuno, like he had always dreamed of, or if his mother had loved him, like he had so desperately wanted (and honestly, still did, deep down), but regardless of what a younger him had so fervently wished for, it never happened.

And maybe, Shouyou liked it better this way- meeting Akira and Kindaichi, falling for Tooru, befriending Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, hanging out with Kenma and Kuroo after so long, and finally carving a spot out for himself on the Aoba Johsai volleyball team.

When he had begun his first day of school, he’d been so utterly convinced volleyball was all he needed, clinging onto a desperate hope dying out, and before he knew it, he’d forged so many bonds that he never even wanted to _think_ of living without out-

Before he knew it, Shouyou finally felt alive again.

“Thank you,” Shouyou says, and even though Akira grows red and stalks away and Kindaichi waves it away as if it was nothing as he and Akira finally leave practice, knowing Shouyou and Tooru have somewhere to go alone, he still can’t help but feel as though he hasn’t thanked them enough- as if they don’t know just how much they’ve actually done for him.

“Are you ready, Shou-chan?” Tooru’s voice comes, a clear melody like a cup of warm chocolate, the little blemishes and upticks to each note in his voice a perfectly embellished marshmallow.

“Yeah,” Shouyou says, following behind his boyfriend and captain with a small smile that only grows as Tooru hands him his huge jacket with a fond smile and twinkle to his eye. “I think I am.”

Tooru locks the door with a practiced ease, even twirling the ring of keys around his finger with an expertise he’s never quite noticed before that Shouyou can’t tell if he’s jealous of or in awe of-

“That’s so cool!” Shouyou shouts, and realizes it’s definitely awe. “Teach me!”

Blinking, Tooru huffs out a slightly confused laugh for just a moment before the realization strikes and his laugh turns genuine, fond and even a bit exasperated, as he ruffles Shouyou’s hair before reaching out and grabbing Shouyou’s hand in his own. “Hm, I’m not sure, Shou-chan! I might want a favor of my own in return…”

Shouyou scrunches his face up. “I can practice volleyball with you?” He offers, even though he knows he’s probably the one who would ask _Tooru_ for that kind of favor.

As they start walking, Shouyou leading Tooru towards the direction of a particular train station, Tooru hums with a wicked gleam in his eye. “I don’t know- maybe my cute, little Shou-chan should give me a kiss!”

Shouyou definitely splutters at that, and even as he sinks as far into Tooru’s stupid, dumb, comforting jacket, his legs still on autopilot and keeping him going forward to the approaching train station, he’s sure his face is still a little too red from how flustered he still gets from the prospect of kissing his boyfriend first- it’s just _scary_ is all, he’s barely ever done it before and what if he messes it up and he hates him and breaks up with him- but Tooru was great, he wouldn’t do that- unless Shouyou was really that bad at kissing, in which, maybe he _would_ -

“Shou-chan?”

Shouyou blinks to see a concerned Tooru staring at him just as they head into the train station. He glances in the opposite direction with an unassumingly blank expression, “If you don’t want to kiss me that bad, then-”

“No!” Shouyou blurts out and groans from how much he’s managed to mess this up, heading onto the just-arriving train with a painfully silent boyfriend. “I just… don’t want to mess it up.”

“So,” Tooru begins, with a bit of a pout, “you _do_ like kissing me?”

Shouyou nods before he can even contemplate the consequences.

Tooru’s pout instantly disappears, replaced by a cocky smirk and puffed up chest. 

Being the Best Boyfriend didn’t automatically mean he won any awards for being the most humble- although, to be fair, if someone was amazing as Tooru was, it only made sense they would realize it.

Before Tooru can even open his mouth to spout off what will definitely be incredibly flustering, but somehow, also devastatingly handsome, the train jolts-

Shouyou stumbles forward, a pit in his stomach growing as he accepts his death coming incredibly soon, the floor rushing up to greet his face like an old friend. He’s lived a good life, hasn’t he?

Then, a reassuring arm catches him right around his torso and with a quiet _oomph_ , lifts him back up, Shouyou blinking to see a mildly worried but more importantly, smirking Tooru.

“I think you just fell for me,” Tooru says.

Shouyou stares in judgement, instead, and before he can even think over the words, “It’s been a good month or so, actually.”

For once, Tooru is caught off guard- and then a smile spreads, slowly and then all at once, the sun prying its way through gloomy weather to cast a reverent ray of light. 

“I’m glad to hear I could make an angel fall for a lowly mortal like myself, then,” Tooru dramatically monologues, even doing a sweeping bow as if he was a grand conductor at an orchestra, a pleased little smile on his lips.

Shouyou laughs a little, soft and quiet in the relative silence and emptiness of the train car, just a small moment for the two of them to revel each other’s company- and to be each other’s world.

But, all too soon, the train comes to a stop and the dreaded (or awaited for, depending on whether the knots in Shouyou’s stomach are good or bad) time finally arrives.

Tooru’s hand still a reassuring weight, Shouyou steps out of the train station, a familiar park just in view- and then, two, even more familiar, faces right in front of the entrance, quietly discussing something beneath their breath.

“Kouji, Izumi!” Shouyou calls out, and from the way their heads both snap towards his instantly, he can tell the exact moment when they register him actually being there. “This is, uh, my boyfriend, Tooru!”

They both blink, Izumi actually opening his mouth as if to question how Shouyou managed to snag such an attractive, skilled, and charming boyfriend (although he wasn’t sure how Izumi would actually know of Tooru’s skill and charm) before closing it.

“You said to meet you here,” Kouji hedges instead, blustering forward with all his usual courage. “Does that mean…”

“Yes,” Shouyou blurts out, and his stomach sinks when they both look relieved- he hadn’t known they hated him so much that they would want an apology that bad. “Tooru, could you wait over there?”

Tooru frowns, hesitating. “You’re sure?”

Laughing a little, Shouyou nods with a fond smile, shooing his overly protective boyfriend away, designated to lurking underneath a tree off in the distance, his worried expression still clear.

“I’m sorry,” Shouyou begins, flinching at the expressions of shock on his former friends’ faces- had he really been that bad in the last months of middle school to the point that they’d thought he would never apologize? “I was really childish back then, and-” 

(And he had actually been hoping they could be friends again.)

“Shou-ch-” Izumi begins, before his face screws up and he corrects himself, “Shouyou. Hinata? It’s okay! Kouji and I don’t blame you! Actually…”

Kouji lets out a big sigh and a tired smile emerges, despite the confusion welling in Shouyou. “We wanted to apologize- when you texted us asking to meet up, that’s what we planned to do.”

“But,” Shouyou stops, before forcing himself to continue, “I was terrible.”

“We probably shouldn’t have pushed so far,” Izumi admits, a sad tinge to his words- the same one all his friends get when they inevitably discover the truth about Shouyou’s mother. “You had to pay the price.”

Shouyou blinks, and suddenly, it clicks into place with a quiet _oh_ \- the knowledge he’s long had from the entire Kageyama-Kindaichi-Akira-Tooru situation where he was somehow friends or close to every single party despite their complicated past. 

Sometimes, things were just _complicated_.

“I’m still sorry,” Shouyou says, and Izumi and Kouji both huff out small, _fond_ laughs at that, bewilderingly enough.

“As long as we can still be sorry, then,” Kouji grins, “no problem here!”

Izumi nods. “Right, Shou-chan?” He freezes after the nickname slips but somehow, it doesn’t serve as a painful twinge, a reminder to all Shouyou has lost from his mother- but rather, the hope that he could change what she had broken and fix what he thought she had ruined. 

“Of course, Izumin!” Brightening, Shouyou beckons Tooru over, who looks much more relaxed now that everyone was laughing and smiling- if things had looked as if they might turn sour and Shouyou might spiral, he has no doubt his wonderful boyfriend would’ve immediately come over. “You’re never going to believe this, but I’m actually on the _volleyball_ team- and at _Aoba Johsai_ , too!”

Shouyou’s friends (and to finally be rid of the prefix ex- or former leaves him feeling a little lighter, as if he’s taken yet another step forward) gasp and compliment his progress at just the right moments as he catches them up on everything they’ve missed volleyball-wise and they do the same for him.

Just as Shouyou is about to leave, Tooru pauses and decides to ever so casually drop the fact that they’re going to be playing a game very, very soon- to his utter surprise, Kouji and Izumi both immediately tell him they’ll come.

And it’s then that Shouyou and Tooru finally leave the park and head back to the train station, a huge grin aching on Shouyou’s face- it’s amazing just how much finally reconnecting with his two middle school friends could really be.

“Thanks,” Shouyou says, and when Tooru begins to open his mouth, as if to brush the apology off, he shakes his head, smiling as he gazes outside at the darkening sky. “For coming with me, for supporting me, for _everything_.”

Tooru lets out a small, considering hum, but finally smiles when he glances back, true and pure. “I’ll always be here, Shouyou. As long as you’ll have me, remember?”

“Forever, then,” Shouyou echoes, and before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “Someone once told me that friendship was just a collection of moments between two people who chose to spend time and had fun- and then chose to make it more.”

Tooru blinks, and then grins at him, soft and fond. Even without all the pieces of the puzzle of Shouyou’s mind, he always understands what he’s trying to say- maybe, it’s because he tries. “Sounds like someone wise.”

Shouyou nods as seriously as he can, and then, leans forward to press a kiss against Tooru’s soft lips- despite the anxious fluttering in his stomach, it all but fades away the second Tooru leans further into the kiss, his hand reaching towards Shouyou and cradling his cheek tenderly.

After all, someone wise had once told him that- and maybe, if it applied to relationships too, then that only made sense. 

Shouyou smiles into the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I have a mini-prequel planned! I did Not expect it either but I've already written the first chapter- fair warning, as an author, I tend to experiment a lot so the prequel will have much shorter chapters than this. Once I finish the prequel, then the sequel can finally begin (which will probably be a normal length).  
> Thank you for reading!


	21. To Let a Bud of Hope Blossom

It’s finally the first day of the Interhigh Tournament- weeks have flown by without Shouyou’s mother in the picture, everything finally settling into place just as he had always dreamed (even if a younger him had thought the key to everything changing would be her finally loving him, maybe it was accepting that she never would instead).

And yet, despite all of that- despite finally being on a team, Shouyou is still frozen in terror (weak, _weak_ , but he always has been), trapped between moving forward (to a brighter future, to everything beyond) and hanging back (in the familiar pain and the familiar suffering).

He’s been pushing further and further- but is it enough? Would it ever be?

(What if his mother was right?)

“Shouyou,” a clear-cut voice slices right through his thoughts, Shouyou blinking up to see an expectant Akira leaning over from his seat across the aisle in their bus. “We’re here.”

“Oh,” Shouyou says, glancing out the window to see the looming Sendai City Gymnasium and an overwhelming rush of fear, anxiety, and excitement floods in before he can try and shut the dam gates. “Great!”

It _is_ great, but- 

(He’s going to ruin everything, and then, they’ll all hate him too.)

“Shou-chan!” 

At this point, Shouyou knows when Tooru has caught him in one of his (unfortunately) frequent overthinking modes- still, he blinks and tries to smile innocently. “Yeah, Tooru?”

Tooru maintains the stern glare for just another second but it crumbles the second Shouyou reaches over and intertwines their fingers as they stand up and get off the bus, which zooms away the second after.

“You can tell me anything, Shouyou,” Tooru sighs, and his smile is a little sadder than it has any right being so Shouyou nods immediately before he can remember that-

“It’s nothing important!” Shouyou insists. “I promise.”

Even saying the words made his heart sink, but it was true, wasn’t it?

“We’ll talk later,” Tooru tells him, the words sparking a deep dread within Shouyou at the thought of talking about his feelings _again_. Yes, his mother makes him feel pathetic and terrible and- _no_ , she is _not_ abusive- 

(At a certain point, Shouyou wonders how much of him is himself and how much is what his mother molded him to be- broken and worthless and ruined.)

Akira bumps into him as Tooru begins leading the rest of the team inside the gym, Shouyou fading away to the very back, too anxious to be by his boyfriend’s side (Tooru was the _captain_ after all- and he was just the first year who had bumbled onto the team’s roster) but too anxious to have him out of eyesight. 

At least there’s still time before Aoba Johsai’s first round (although it’s technically the second-) and Shouyou can just very simply _not_ think about the impending match.

“You’re nervous,” Akira says- Kindaichi elbows him but Shouyou laughs instead, pretending as if it’s not from sheer nerves.

“Me? Nervous?” Shouyou wheezes. “Never.”

Kindaichi nods, slowly, completely unbelieving but still going along with it. “Definitely,” he agrees dubiously.

Shouyou stares down at his hands- even as they tremble, he knows they’ve done incredible things. He’s set hundreds of balls set by the prefecture’s best setter (and, in his opinion, the nation- or even the _world’s_ best setter ever) and been coached by the Ace of their powerhouse volleyball team. And yet-

“Okay,” Shouyou admits. “Maybe I am nervous. A bit.”

He just doesn’t know why.

“It doesn’t make sense!” Shouyou whines, trying his best to ignore all the girls ogling _his_ boyfriend (to be fair, Tooru was charming and handsome and an incredible volleyball setter- how could they _not_ like him?). “I wasn’t even nervous for my first ever match-”

Akira blinks (and there one of the girls goes, shyly approaching Tooru with a flustered smile). “It’s the pressure.”

Shouyou laughs a bit. “What? No!” 

“Maybe,” Kindaichi suggests with a sympathetic smile, even as the edges are a little more teasing than what’s strictly necessarily.

“Yeah,” Shouyou deflates, perking up a bit as Tooru apologetically smiles and the girl leaves. “Maybe?”

Still, one of the best parts about Interhigh is that he’ll be able to see his friends from Karasuno!

But even as Shouyou stands on his tiptoes to try and see over the crowd of brightly colored tracksuits for the stark black ones he knows _should_ be there, everyone else is just so unfairly tall-

And then, a snort draws his attention away from the rest of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team and Shouyou beams at the familiarity of it. 

“Shimashima, Yamaguchi!”

Then, because the rest of the Karasuno team is staring at him with guarded gazes, he tries to school his face into the most serious, intimidating face he can- (it doesn’t work).

“Hinata,” Yamaguchi starts, thankfully, letting Shouyou breathe a silent sigh of relief as the three of them slowly back off from the terrifying crows, a good amount of distance between them and their respective teams. “Are you playing today?”

Shouyou grins as determination flares in his veins and drowns out each dying ember of anxiety. “Yes! Are-”

Tsukishima coughs. “Congratulations,” he blandly congratulates- even despite his neutral tone, Shouyou can spot a glimmer deep, deep down that Tsukishima actually _was_ proud of him. “Your first round is the second, right?”

“Yeah!” Shouyou blinks, a little surprised Tsukishima remembered- then again, he _had_ spammed Tsukishima and Yamaguchi with dozens of texts about the Interhigh tournament matches. “I think we’re going to go watch your first match, though, so you better win!”

(If Karasuno wins both of their matches today, then Shouyou will be pitted against his friends on the court, where friendships dissolve in the face of volleyball.)

“Oh,” Tsukishima smirks- and now, there’s an ominous tinge to Yamaguchi’s smile, too. “Don’t worry, Hinata- we will.”

(Are they going to murder him?)

“We will, too!” Shouyou shouts back, ignoring the obvious question lurking at the back of his mind. “We’re going to Nationals.”

Yamaguchi blinks but he laughs softly anyways, the ominous atmosphere finally fading away. “I’m sure you will,” he agrees, and when Tsukishima rolls his eyes, he raises an eyebrow. 

“Dumbass.”

Shouyou sighs a little internally before smiling at Kageyama despite how ever since that one day when he’d spaced out, he had been gifted with the titles _dumbass_ and _idiot_. “Kageyama!”

“If you say you’re going to Nationals, you’re saying you can beat us,” Kageyama points out, even more stiffly than he usually would.

Shouyou blinks and then, smiles.

“That’s because we will.”

Then, because his three friends (Kageyama _had_ to count, he’d bought a carton of milk for Shouyou last practice- even if he had refused to acknowledge it) are staring for a little longer than what’s comfortable, Shouyou lets the smile drop and luckily, no one seems to have taken offense since Kageyama and Tsukishima both bonk his head at the same time.

“Whatever you say, _shrimp_ ,” Tsukishima smirks, although it’s thankfully without a single hint of malice. 

“Idiot,” Kageyama adds on, and then, thoughtfully, “Shrimp.”

All Shouyou can do is stare, hopelessly spluttering at his two prickly Karasuno friends whose combined power would honestly be _terrifying_ -

As if to confirm his dawning fear, Tsukishima’s smirk widens, “Idiot shrimp. It definitely fits.”

When Shouyou swivels around to face Yamaguchi, he seems to be just as confused regarding how Tsukishima and Kageyama aren’t ripping each other’s throats out- although since he isn’t the one being teased, there’s a hint of a smirk edging onto his lips.

“I am _neither_ of those things!” Shouyou argues instead, pouting just the tiniest bit- It is his honor on the line, after all.

He is not stupid! 

Or a crusty-ocean. A… crispy-lotion? A sea thing! A little idiot in the ocean who went by a stupid, vaguely familiar title that Tsukishima had definitely name-dropped once or twice and-

Nevermind. 

Maybe he _is_ stupid.

“Oh? Are some mean crows picking on my poor boyfriend?” a casual voice sing-songs and an arm abruptly wraps around his shoulders, leaving Shouyou stumbling back a few steps to glance up at-

“Tooru!” he cheers at his hero, and when Tooru glances down, the hard edges all smoothen, a glimmer of fondness sparkling behind his eyes- _beautiful_ , Shouyou can’t help but think, and he smiles back. 

Then, when Shouyou glances back towards his friends, Kageyama has somehow mysteriously disappeared (?!).

“Good luck!” Shouyou wishes his remaining friends just as they leave.

“You too, Hinata!” Yamaguchi returns with a grin and a friendly wave- Tsukishima grumbles something under his breath along those same lines (although there’s definitely a _shrimp idiot_ tossed in, just for good measure).

After the Karasuno volleyball team has faded into the bright colors of the crowd, Shouyou blinks as his phone vibrates, taking it out and not bothering to hide his smile when he sees the dinosaur keychain.

 **Kenma:** Good luck on your game. I’ll see you this weekend with Kuroo?

Shouyou beams.

_Of course!! Good luck to you guys too!!!!!!_

“So _they’re_ Kenma and Kuroo!” Tooru says with a triumphant grin- it wasn’t even as if Shouyou had been keeping his friend’s identity a secret _but_ he maybe had this annoying habit of rambling to Tooru about all his friends and what they had done together most recently. 

It was just that there usually wasn’t much to say about when he hung out with Kenma- just endless video games and a few aborted volleyball games that ended up just being Kuroo and Shouyou practicing together while Kenma watched from the sidelines, absentmindedly cheering Shouyou on as he played video games. 

So instead, Shouyou nods, and when Tooru freezes, he can’t help but laugh.

“Shou-chan… please say they don’t play volleyball on a team.”

Rather than answer, Shouyou slips away from Tooru and brightens when he spots the perfect escape, ignoring the whining that his boyfriend has now begun- 

“Kouji! Izumin!” And then, because despite how he’s kept in close contact with his two middle school friends for weeks now, the idea that he’s finally friends with what once were his biggest regrets still leaves him breathless, “You came.”

“Of course, Shou-chan!” Izumi scolds, although there’s a hint of relief in his friends’ smiles that makes Shouyou think, maybe, they were glad to be friends with him again, too.

Shouyou can’t help but beam back before he realizes, “My first game is in the second round, you didn’t have to come so early!”

Kouji coughs, glancing away when Shouyou looks at him with reddened cheeks. “We just wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be able to miss your game. That’s all.”

“Aw!” Shouyou leaps towards his friends and draws them into a huge hug, and despite the quiet _oomphs_ , they both join in the hug, too with quiet, fond laughs.

( _Lucky_ , he thinks- and he wonders if he even deserves it.)

“I’ll see you two once the game is over!” Shouyou shouts, a little too loud, but, “You both owe me ice cream when I win, remember!”

Izumi shakes his head but there’s that same fond smile on his face. “That was a promise we made years ago!”

They aren’t wrong, but-

“A promise is a promise, no matter how long! Right, Shou-chan?” 

Shouyou blinks up to see Tooru and grins back at his boyfriend’s support. “See!” he crows. “If even my _boyfriend_ , the best setter in the prefecture, says so, then I must be right!”

(Tooru definitely doesn’t puff up his chest at the praise, a hint of smugness in his smile- and since he doesn’t, a piece of Shouyou definitely doesn’t melt in fondness either, thinking _you deserve every compliment in the world and then a thousand more_ and _your name should be known amongst the world- and one day, it will_.)

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get your years-old ice cream,” Kouji rolls his eyes as he huffs out a small laugh. “You’ve told us a thousand times about how Oikawa is the Best Boyfriend.”

Shouyou freezes. 

“No,” he denies. “I’ve never said that.”

“Right. See you soon, Shou-chan!” Izumi waves with a friendly, teasing grin as he and Kouji set off, the _traitors_ -

“Aw, you think I’m the _best boyfriend_ ,” Tooru begins, a mischievous lilt to his stupid, perfect voice as he smirks.

Shouyou pouts. “No,” he attempts one last time before he sighs and gives up, reaching over and tangling his fingers with Tooru’s before he peeks up with a soft smile, “I know you are.”

There’s a brief moment of utter silence, the only sound being the constant buzz of conversation and laughter from the countless teams around them, and then, the buffering, frozen tinge to Tooru’s face finally fades.

“Shou-chan! Stop being so cute!” Tooru whines. “You’re killing me! Do you _want_ to kill your boyfriend?”

“Hm,” Shouyou says, and pauses for maximum dramatic impact. “Maybe.”

Then, before Tooru can begin his pouting _again_ , he laughs a little to himself and tugs Tooru forward as the rest of their team finally begins to head towards the matches that would soon start. 

It’s only just as the Aoba Johsai team near the gymnasium doors that the spark of fear from all the way back in the bus slips back into his thoughts, only having been dormant when there were distractions everywhere to keep his mind busy.

(What if he deserved nothing of what he was given and pleaded for more despite that anyways- what if he ruined everything that he dared to touch?)

“Shou-chan,” Tooru interrupts- soft and sweet, the worry behind his eyes is painfully clear. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay!” Shouyou says, even if he isn’t completely sure is- but when he looks into Tooru’s eyes and holds his hand and lets himself forget, he thinks he might be. 

When Tooru hesitates, Shouyou pushes him forward with a smile, soft and sweet just like the ones Tooru so often gives him. “Go lead us in, captain!”

Tooru laughs before he slips away, warm and comforting and everything good in the world- if Shouyou takes a brief moment to smile after his boyfriend making his way to the front of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team and beginning to lead them in, then it’s only for him and Tooru’s wandering gaze to know.

Akira slides right next to him along with Kindaichi, who gives him a friendly smile- the two of them next to him lets Shouyou breathe a silent sigh of relief at having his friends by his side.

Just as Akira opens his mouth to say something, he glances towards Shouyou and then freezes before wrapping an arm around him in an uncharacteristically sweet gesture. Even if the suddenness would’ve made him flinch if it was from almost anyone else, he only perks up instead- maybe it’s the open smile Shouyou readily gives or the complete trust he knows lies within his gaze, but Akira looks unsettled before he finally smiles back.

(It’s nice to not flinch at a friend’s innocent touch, to not recoil in fear from a threat that was never there- to finally not be afraid.)

“Ready?” Akira asks and something cautious lays hidden in his eyes- a spark of worry, a spark of hope- maybe it’s because Shouyou knows Akira is there to support him, right alongside Tooru and Kindaichi and every single one of his friends, but somehow, he can’t help but hope, too.

“Yeah,” Shouyou nods, and grins despite the terror. “I am.” 

And he takes his first step, to greater things beyond the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Quick side note, I'm posting a short fanfic for oihina week that has some Shouyou angst and oihina fluff if you happen to be interested!)
> 
> Thank you for reading! This has honestly been an incredible journey- I appreciate every single hit, kudos, bookmark, subscription, and (especially) comment! I never thought my writing could reach so many people and before this project, I honestly didn't even think I was good at writing. Thank you so much for all the support you've given me- I hope this fanfic has helped you, whether that's in dealing with similar issues that Shouyou faces or if it's just a brief distraction from the stress of your life!  
> There's a sequel and prequel planned, though, so it isn't entirely over (thankfully). While I'm very busy with school, I plan to continue working on this project and I hope you continue following along!


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